#Im interested to see where they go with it!

[marauder-misprint]

happy 500 followers i’m so happy for you!!

can you write 62 for the dialogue prompt with remus? maybe she’s james’ sister and a flirt just like him. bc jealous rem ✅✅ they’re dumb for each other but sooo oblivious

Thank you for the request ❤︎

I definitely had a moment writing where I was laughing to myself. You flirt with Remus for years: James has no problem. You say one flirtatious line to Sirius: James asks what's wrong with you.

What you need

Remus Lupin x Potter!reader

2.9k words

cw: fluff, mutual pining, angst

You and James were dual threats. Quidditch stars, academic weapons when you chose to be, friendly, attractive and flirtatious. He had his sights set on Lily and you had yours on Remus. Your methods, however, differed. While James showered Lily with compliments and asked her out daily, you had a more gentle approach. You were drawn to Remus, plenty happy to just sit in his presence. You showered him with compliments as well and made him the center of your world, but you felt that, like Lily, he didn’t reciprocate your feelings. 

You didn’t let it deter you though. You knew he was more reserved than the rest of the Marauders. You decided you would play the long game and wait. He would ask you out. Eventually. 

You collapsed next to Remus on the couch in the common room with an exaggerated sigh. You leaned your head on his shoulder to see what book he was reading.

“The various color changes in the wiggenweld brewing process are essential to the process and without them, the potion will be rendered useless. Substitutions, while appropriate in other potions, will drastically reduce the effectiveness,” you read over his shoulder. “Merlin, Moony, what are you reading? I know Slug didn’t assign this.”

“Just reading up on healing potions. Never know when you’ll need one,” he said.

You hummed and adjusted your body so you were closer to him. 

“Must be something more interesting going on now, though, right?”

“Prongs, Padfoot and Wormtail all have detention.”

“I know,” you laughed. “Maybe we could do something! You know, just the two of us!”

You tried to not sound too excited at the idea. It was a rare opportunity that the other three had detention while you and Remus got off scot-free. 

“Oh, well, I was planning on reading…”

“You could read out loud?” you suggested, desperate for some attention from him. “Maybe I’d learn something.”

“No good at reading out loud,” he mumbled.

“It’d be good practice, Moons. You know I won’t judge. Plus, you have a nice voice.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his face turn a pink hue. You nudged him gently. 

“Come on, read to me,” you sang softly. 

Remus, feeling flustered, stood up.

“Please excuse me,” he said, leaving you on the couch alone.

You watched him retreat to his dorm with a frown on your face. Once again, it hadn’t gone as you had hoped. This wasn’t the first time you had alone time with Remus and he left just after you made him blush. You grumpily moved over into the spot he previously occupied. It was warm and faintly smelled of him; it was the second best thing right now. 

It didn’t take long before Lily sat down in the squashy armchair near you. 

“Why the long face Potter?” she asked. “Missing brother dearest and the troubled gang?” 

You made a face at her, earning you a laugh. Oh, how James would’ve smiled and stared if he were here. 

“They aren’t all in detention, Lils,” you told her.

“Well, you’re not. That would be at least one.”

“Ha,” you said dryly. “No, um, Remus is upstairs. Reading.”

“Huh. Doesn’t he usually read down here when they aren’t around?”

“Mhmm.” You took a deep breath. “He was for a bit.”

Lily nodded. “You’re in his spot, aren’t you?”

“Maybeeee,” you replied quietly, turning your face to look at the fire. “Smells like ‘im,” you added in a mumble.

She laughed again. “Potter, you’re doomed.”

You looked back at her so she could see you roll your eyes and then you returned your gaze to the flames. You knew you were doomed. You would follow Remus to the ends of the earth. You sat next to him whenever you could. You knew how he liked his tea and which quill was his favorite. You knew his ranking of tables in the library, the ones best for studying alone, studying in a group and prank planning. You knew which sweater was the comfiest because he wore it after every full moon. You adored him and he couldn’t seem to stand to be alone with you for more than a few minutes. 

“So, what’d you say to him?”

“What?” Your head snapped back to Lily.

“He was reading in that spot and now he’s not. What made him go upstairs?”

“I asked him to read to me.”

“That all?” 

You nodded, with a confused look on your face. If Lily thought it would’ve taken more to chase Remus away, perhaps something was up with Remus that you didn’t know about.

“Bit strange. I thought he would read to you,” she said lightly. Then she pulled out her own book and waved it in front of your face. “I could read to you if you want.”

“Not the same and you know it. But, if I were James…” you teased. 

“If you were James, I’d be up in our dorm avoiding him.”

Like Remus is doing…

“You read. In your head. I’m going to the pitch... I need air.”

---

When you went to the pitch alone, you used it as a time to think, to clear your head. Did you need to practice because Gryffindor was playing Slytherin this week? Yes. But you also need to think. You’ve loved Remus for years and, well, something clicked while you were flying. He just didn’t like you that way and you had to make your peace with that. 

You started small. You didn’t sit next to Remus at breakfast although you still had his tea ready for him when he arrived at the table. A look of confusion passed over his face when he saw you sitting between Sirius and Mary. He didn’t say anything about it, nor did anyone else. 

Your next step was more direct. You sat next to Otto Bagman in your first class instead of Lily. That caught the eye of some people. Even more so when you let your hand linger on his shoulder longer than you should have and flashed him your brilliant smile. You laughed loudly at his lackluster jokes. 

During the next class, you chose Stubby Boardman. And Gildeory Lockhart in the next. And Gideon Prewett. And Bertram Aubrey. Each got your flirtatious treatment. None made you feel like Remus did, but it was nice to have their attention. 

At dinner, you pulled a move that none of them were expecting. You sat between Sirius and Mary like you had at breakfast. But you sat closer to Sirius than you usually did. It was a closeness you reserved solely for Remus. 

The boys were discussing their next prank and determined that they would need to sneak into Slughorn’s private stores first in order to pull it off.

“I think Sirius should be the distraction. He’s got something super captivating about him, don’t cha think?” you said, leaning forward a bit. 

You flashed him a soft smile as you rested your hand on his shoulder. If you hadn’t been looking at Sirius, you would’ve seen the glares that he immediately received from both James and Remus. 

“Don’t know if Slug is particularly captivated by me, love,” Sirius said, looking down at you and matching your soft smile. Then a wicked glint appeared in his eyes as he turned back to the boys. “But, running in yelling about an exploding potion down the corridor? See how fast the old man can run!” 

James’ expression changed in a flash. He slammed his hand down on the table.

“Brilliant, Padfoot!” 

Remus, on the other hand, let his glare hold longer, only dropping it when Peter addressed him, asking him to repeat what they needed to get from storage. You remained close to Sirius for the rest of the meal as you offered your ideas for getting past Slughorn and for the actual prank. When you excused yourself after you finished, James followed you out of the hall and walked with you back to Gryffindor Tower.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” he asked.

“Obviously.”

“So then, what was that back there? What’s going on with you and Sirius?”

You stopped walking in shock. You spend years flirting with Remus and no comments from James, but one comment toward Sirius and now he’s suddenly concerned with your love life? James turned to fully face you and you frowned at the concern on his face.

“Nothing. There’s nothing between me and Sirius,” you said, sounding a bit incredulous. 

“Then what the bloody hell was that comment at dinner? He’s like super captivating, he he he,” he mimicked in a falsetto.

You took a calculated step toward James while reaching for your wand.

“I do not sound like that.”

“What was the comment for then?” he repeated the question for the third time. “You don’t flirt with Padfoot.” 

You clicked your tongue and rolled your eyes. 

“I had… a moment of clarity. Obviously, Moony isn’t right for me and I’ll get over him with whoever I need to.” 

You huffed before stalking away from your brother. He stood there and watched you leave, utterly shocked by what you said. Obviously was a strong word in his opinion. He thought the obvious thing was the effect you had on Remus; Remus was hopelessly in love with but too insecure to do anything and you were waiting for him to make a move. 

You continued to flirt with the boys throughout the rest of the week, with Gideon being the main recipient. Being a fellow Gryffindor and on the quidditch team gave him an easy foot up over the rest. James didn’t say anything more to you, really just being glad it wasn’t Sirius but still showing his concern nonverbally from across the room. 

When he could, Remus would find an excuse to leave whenever you were with Gideon. He couldn’t dismiss how sick it made him feel. Somehow he had been the one receiving your attention for so long that he didn’t realize how much of his day was actually spent with you around, and he didn’t realize how cold he’d feel without your warmth. Instead, he now had to watch Gideon bathe in your compliments and subtle touches. Remus hated it. 

When the weekend came, the whole school descended on the quidditch pitch for an exciting game. Gryffindor versus Slytherin always brought excitement. Every student donned either green or red, even the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. The game was a compilation of incredible plays and dirty moves. In the end, Gryffindor pulled through as your seeker caught the snitch. Usually, after a Gryffindor win, you’d search for Remus’ arms the moment you landed, but this time was different. You immediately found Gideon and let his arms be the ones to wrap around you and spin you around. He pressed a kiss to your forehead. You didn’t mind that it wasn’t Remus; it was nice to be the one receiving the doting for once. 

Gideon’s attention followed you all the way back to the common room for the party that ensued. You knew you had eyes on you - you could feel them. In the past, after a win, you’d have one drink in your hand and you’d nurse it while hanging around the outskirts of the party with Remus. You’d maybe do shots with James because no win was possible without the Potter Twins. This time, however, you were not standing around the edge of the party with Remus. Nor were you nursing a singular drink. 

You were multiple drinks in and dancing with Gideon. His hands were traveling your body and you made no moves to stop him. You just kept moving to the music and taking sips of your drink. 

Remus felt like throwing up at the sight. He had half a mind to walk up to you and tear you away from the ginger. He knew you could do better than Gideon, but if asked who, Remus would want to say himself, but was he better than Gideon? Once again, Remus let his insecurities get the best of him; he retreated to his dorm unable to watch you dance like that with another guy who wasn’t him. 

You finished your drink and felt Gideon lean into your ear. 

“Do you want to celebrate somewhere more… private?” he whispered. 

You smiled at him before saying, “Refill first!” 

James had been keeping an eye on you and Gideon for a while. He didn’t like the way that Gideon was touching you, just as much as he didn’t like how much you were drinking. You were certainly not in your right mind. He intercepted you on your way to the drink table.

“I’m cutting you off,” he said curtly before leading you to the stairs. 

You pouted but allowed yourself to be ushered up to his dorm. In your head, you planned to sneak back down to the party the instant that James left you in his dorm. Once inside, he brought over to his bed and you sat down, crossing your arms. 

“You need to sober up a bit. Um, here’s a water. You know extra blankets are in my trunk. Loo’s over there. Got your wand? Need anything else?” 

You groaned in annoyance. “I’m fine, James,” you slurred. “But you know what I actually need.”

“Hm? What’s that?”

“To get over these damn feelings for Lupin!” you basically spat. “Can’t very well do that if I’m up here, can I? He won’t ask me out, won’t kiss me, can’t stand to be around me. Why you stopping me from moving on?” 

“I-I…” he stuttered, trying not to look over at where Remus was sitting on his own bed with wide eyes. “I’m preventing you from making a decision you might regret.”

“James… James, James, James. I’m fine. Just let me get over being in love with Remus.”

James can’t help it. His eyes flickered to Remus. Yours immediately followed where his went. Remus was staring at you with a faint blush on his cheeks. Because why did you just say that you needed to get over being in love with him?

“Shit,” you muttered, falling back onto James’ bed. “Now I’ve said too much.”

“I’m… going to leave… and let you two… talk,” James said slowly, trying to sound casual and topping it off with snaps and finger guns.

“You’re… in love with me?” Remus asked nervously.

You made a noise that’s a mix of a scoff and laugh.

“Only been bloody head over heels for you for years, you twat.”

“You’ve been,” he muttered, not quite believing you. 

“A girl can only flirt so hard,” you said with a heavy sigh. 

“You were flirting?” 

“With you. For years. Keep up, Lupin.”

There was a slight pause before he said softly, “You don’t call me Lupin.”

“I didn’t when I was in love with you.” 

“Was?”

“Moony, Merlin’s fucking beard,” you exclaimed, propping yourself up on your elbows briefly. “Did you not just hear me tell James that I’m trying to get over you? You clearly don’t like me back so stop making it harder!”

You let yourself fall back onto James’ bed with a ‘humph.’ You stared up at the canopy. Then you felt the bed sink next to you and you don’t need to look over to know that Remus has joined you. 

“You actually like me?” he whispered. 

“If I have to say it one more time, I swear, Moony, I will curse-”

“You like me.” This time it was a statement. Remus doesn’t believe it yet, but he didn’t need you to finish your threat. “And it’s real. Not a prank or cruel joke or anything?”

You rolled onto your side so that you could see him.

“Stop pretending to be dense. It’s been hard enough coming to terms with you not liking me like that.”

“No!” 

You blinked at him with a confused expression.

“Um, I… I do like you. Like that.”

“Remus… don’t tease me right now. You can’t stand to be alone with me for more than a minute.”

“Because I don’t trust myself to not kiss you.” He swallowed and allowed his eyes to flick down to your lips. “It’s easier to control myself when James, or anyone else, is around. But when it’s just you and me, and you say those sweet things… I just…”

“Those sweet things,” you repeated with quiet laughter. “You mean my flirting?”

“Yes. That.”

He stopped talking for a moment. He reached out to caress your face. 

“I just thought you could do better than me.” 

You scoffed at the idea that someone was able to be better than Remus.

“But seeing you with Aubrey, Lockhart, Bagman… Prewett…” Remus sighed. “It was hell.”

“So, what you’re saying is you’d like me to keep flirting with you and only you?” you asked softly before your teasing nature returned. “I don’t know about that, Moony. I might need something in return.” 

“Anything.”

“Ask me out?”

“I… I can do that.” He cleared his throat. “Would you do me the honor of going on a date with me? Hogsmeade, next weekend?”

“Of course, you idiot,” you said before placing a quick kiss on his lips.

“Oh, and one more thing.”

You hummed.

“Never flirt with Prewett again. It was nauseating.” 

You laughed. “Just kiss me until my brother comes back, Moony.”

[vxlentinescookies]

Ajax listen,,,,listen to me Ajax-

Self Aware AU, where the cookies come to the player's/reader's world. Pick whichever characters you wanna include, I just need to see this 🙏

→ ❛Part of your world❜

→ Characters ; Longan Dragon Cookie, Burning Spice Cookie, Shadow Milk Cookie, Timekeeper Cookie & Millennial Tree Cookie → Quote ; ❛❛If someone came to you and told you “One day you’ll have those who you love the most in the palm of your hand”, well… you never thought that’d become true, nor that it’d be a metaphor…❜❜ → Genre ; Headcanons/Drabble → A/N ; This took me a whole ass night to make and 2500+ words to finish, I hope you like it /lh

Longan Dragon Cookie

“How quaint… to believe someone like you lives in such a… small place”

Having Longan Dragon in your home was… curious to say the least. Not something you expected, yet here you were, with a dragon looking at you as they squatted in your bedroom.

Longan would be hypercritical of the place you lived, noting things like “This looks cheap” or “Its far too small”

Despite that, Longan would be quite intrigued in your life, wanting to see how you worked or what you did, they’d follow you around when not sitting in your living room and meditating.

Nevertheless, they’re there for a reason, they’re with you for a reason, and they’ll make that reason known very, very soon.

It’d take Longan a few months, but eventually, they would come to sit by your side at the table, not sitting down on a chair but instead, sitting down by your side quite literally. They’d stare at you for long moments before finally leaning their head on your shoulder, the weight catching you off guard as you looked at them. 

“... I’ll make sure you live like you deserve one of these days” They’d say, and in that moment, you understood why there had been so many disappearances of delinquents and robbers nearby…

If you’re wondering what they’d do in your world, then…

One of the few favorite activities of Longan was to read, so much so, that you had to request books from the library more often than not, but with the way Longan was reading them… It had just been a few months, and yet this dragon had consumed almost all of your local library’s books.  So, when they finished reading most of your books, they’d chose to write them. And they’d write about what they saw, about everything they had seen around them, everything they had seen in this new world, and in some sense, it was intriguing to see how a dragon explored the new world they were in, the little things that werent intriguing to you were greatly important to them, in a way that got you even more intrigued by how they saw you.

“... You want to know how I see you?” They’d ask.

You knew fully well that you shouldnt expect much, after all, this was Longan Dragon we were talking about, they werent a kind dragon, they saw cookies as lesser beings, and humans now by extensions, but as you asked them that question, they’d only smile and pat your head softly.

“You’re the reason Im here… Of course I would think highly of you”

A genuine smile, it made your heart flutter as they spoke, a hand going to cup your chin in it.

“You’re interesting, perhaps, one of the most interesting things I’ve seen in this world.”

Besides writing, they’d follow you around and take note of everything you’d do… And by night, they’d curl by your side, taking most of the bed as they allow you to take rest in their chest, as they allow you to take rest in their breaths while their hands thread on your hair.

Burning Spice Cookie

“How intriguing…! Never would I have expected your home to be so… so… erm…”

Another one who seems to heavily judge your house, but also, another one who appears in your home kneeling because it is so small compared to him.

Either way, he gets eased into the ambient quite easily, his search for entertainment leading him to see through everything and all the world has to offer.

Until he… gets bored, again, because your world isnt as different from his (and in some sense, it is… actually… more boring than his old world…)

So, he moves to the next thing closest to him for entertainment!

“Little one, come here” 

He’d call forward to you once, looking at you with dark yet fiery eyes and an everlasting smile, though you knew this once it hid something, after all, despite him coming to your world for x or y reason, it involved you, it always involved you…

“Entertain me” Would be his words once you approached him, his smile becoming only more cryptic as you lifted an eyebrow at his voice. Entertain, him? In what sense or way would you be able to entertain someone akin to a god? 

Seeming to sense your doubt, Burning Spice would only come and hold you from your shirt, lifting you up before staring at you and then…

“Hahahah, you should’ve looked at your face, you really are an interesting one!”

If you’re wondering what he’d do in your world, then…

Besides seeking something for entertainment, Burning spice is in some sense able to somewhat pass through the crowd, and by that I mean he can somewhat pass as just a very tall human. Nonetheless, between choosing to hit the gym and sending you pictures, he’ll also follow you around, finding even the most monotonous tasks fairly entertaining if it has you in it. Its a weird combo, being outside with a dude in a hoodie and sweat pants following you around while doing groceries, or being in the metro and getting a fairly nice picture of him flexing for you. Burning spice is a menace…

“Aye, welcome home! I took care of some pesky people while you were gone… It was fun hearing their screams…”

…in far more ways than one.

Either way, you two also share a bed, its not like you have a choice with how clingy he can become when sleeping, pulling you in his arms in a heated hug (in the sense that he literally irradiates heat) while snoring loudly, you’ve gotten complaints from neighbors (if you live in an apartment), but somehow… they’ve… they’ve quieted down recently… However, when you ask Burning Spice, he just laughs it off.

Shadow Milk Cookie

“Woowee, what do we have here, sweetheart?”

Not as judgemental of your home, no, for once someone isnt as focused on where you live but…

He is focused on you, looking at you up and down, before hitting his head on the roof of your room, ouch!

He spends most of the days following you around though, using his magic to stay hidden from most people, so much that people may find you crazy for seeing you talk to… nothing!

Either way, much like the others, he’s there for a reason…

“Why Im here?”

You asked Shadow Milk once, after a good few months, what the jester had come to do in your own home. In fact, it perplexed you so much that when you asked him, the feeling seemed to be shared. It was… intriguing to say the least, but he’d only smile before clasping his hands together and saying in a song-esque tune.

“Becuase you’re sooooooooooo interesting, darlin! Just look at you, how could I NOT come here with you?”

Truth to be told, he saw you as who you really were, in some sense he saw you as someone who didnt fall for lies easily, he saw you as someone who saw beyond that and you were… interesting. You were a shot in the dark, and he just had, to have you near.

“You’re so silly, darlin, sososososo silly” He’d add in, patting your head softly as you only smiled and blushed slightly, even while knowing his smile and gaze hid a million of thoughts, and a million of even more ideas.

If you’re wondering what he’d do in your world, then…

When not reading around in your home, or following you to the library to read some books, he’d be looking over your shoulder, reading every single note, watching every single thing you do, it makes him curious, how someone so quaint has him wrapped around your finger. And yet, he cant help but smile at the idea of being just like that, wrapped around your finger in a sweet loving embrace.

He’d be the most romantic of the bunch, the one that makes it the most prominent that he’s there with you because he likes you, he dosent even hide it fully despite his jester-esque persona, he just cant hide it! So, when you ask him about what he was doing one day in the balcony of your apartment, he’d only turn and smile softly.

“Why, I'm recreating one of your world’s theatre plays!” He’d say, and you make a mental note to go to the theatre more often… “And you’ve come just in time, silly (y/n)! I need someone to play dearest Juliet!”

You add that it is a tragic love story, and he only brushes it off, adding in that “actors are actors, sweetheart, now come in and act!” so you do, and you have a fun time doing a monologue to a bunch of people who stay and watch, before claps fill the air.

And when time comes to bed, he’ll be the first to curl up in your bed, curl like a cat who welcomes you into his arms so sweetly, you feel the scent of milk, lactonic as it is, and for once you feel safe.

Timekeeper Cookie

“Well, look what we have here!”

To find Timekeeper in your home means to have done something either right or wrong. In your case, its right.

They’re very much curious about everything from the things you do on a daily basis to your home and how electronics work.

Still, and much like some others in this list, they become quickly bored about it, choosing to focus on you as main form of entertainment

Still, you can expect certain shenanigans to ensue.

It was late at night when it happened, just as you were playing when a portal opened and dragged you inside of it. You were scared shitless that much is true but, when you saw the person who dragged you in, you simply could sigh in slight annoyance.

“What? Cant I drag my favorite person in for some fun?” They’d say with that ever present smile, Timekeeper chuckling as she smiled widely at you, before noticing… “Oh, right, it is night where you’re from, guess I took you out at the wrong time!”

You huffed and yawned, before sitting up and looking at your phone… Right, it didnt exactly work when in time rifts, but then again that raised the question, why did they bring you here to begin with? As if being presented with the question loud and clear, they’d clear her throat and speak yet again.

“I simply wanted to see you, nothing wrong with that now?” They’d say quite mischievously, picking you up and bringing you into her lap “Go on, lets- Hm?”

You’d fall asleep into her arms as soon as she picked you up, your calm quiet face being shown to her as you were held in her arms. Well, guess fun had to wait.

If you’re wondering what they’d do in your world, then…

Much like the others, they also enjoy reading, however, they focus on reading about engineering and mechanics, more so about the mechanics of your world to see if they’re any different from the ones of her world. To say there isnt much difference is but an understatement, there was a hefty amount of difference counting the technology from the TBD was far more advanced, but, even then, you’d be able to get the timekeeper intrigued by the nature of your world.

“Tell me more about your world, c’mon!” They’d ask one day, floating from a time rift as you cooked dinner. 

Unlike the others Timekeeper wasnt keen on staying in one place, still finding comfort in being inside time rifts most of the time, though they still visited you more often than not, more often than other places. Seeing them you’d ask her what she wanted to know, to which she’d hum before saying.

“Anything, I dont really find it entertaining seeing it myself—Explain your world to me yourself, doll!”

So when night comes after a long day chatting, it is you who clings to her softly, as she watches you sleep cozily by her side. She smiles and pats your head, because as much as she’d prefer to fade into a time rift, she knows she cant let you go so easily, no. Not when you finally showed her happiness.

“Interesting, this place is… quite interesting…”

Seeing someone as tall as Millennial Tree in your home is but a piece of the whole puzzle. You are dumbfounded but in some sense, seeing them kneel to greet you is almost laughable.

He’s big, very tall and a gentle giant overall, and it shows when he holds your hand and tells you that your world is interesting to him.

He’s just as curious as everyone else, looking at everything, looking at everyone, he’s curious about you, curious about your world, yet he knows it’d be dangerous to leave on his own.

So, you take him to the forest, planing on leaving him go but…

“I dont want to leave you alone…”

He’d speak with conviction, looking at you as your eyes widened and your face dropped. Just what you feared would happen. He’d hold your hands together, looking at you with some concern before smiling softly, kissing both of your palms.

“I came here for a reason, that much I know, and I know that reason is within you… Allow me to stay by your side, and I’ll do everything in my power to make it worth it.”

You have no power in you to say no, to turn down his offer after his gentle and sweet words, that day you realized that perhaps he did come to your world for a reason, a world so clad in evil and pain…

If you’re wondering what he’d do in your world, then…

When not travelling nor reading, he’s at home with you, cooking or revisiting each place he has gone to to help. He’s become… a sort of Messiah, you cant help it, become public enemy no.1 to some, and a savior to others, it truly depended on who you were asking. Your gaze would follow his as he trailed on a book you both were reading before he’d lean and kiss your forehead, things were… easy, happy with him there… You felt much happier.

“Is something the matter, sapling?” He’d ask, his gentleness carrying over to his voice as he hummed at your words saying it was nothing, but he knew better, still, he wouldnt push. “Are you perhaps tired?”

You pouted slightly before nodding, yes, you were quite tired, but you didnt want to admit to it. Still, he’d nod before moving the book to the side and lifting you into his arms. He’d carry you to your shared bedroom, careful on his way there before setting you on the bed with him, cozily, softly, carrying you to him as he pressed his lips on your forehead and your body to his.

“Sleep well, sunshine” He’d say, brushing hairs off your face before speaking again “Thank you for accepting me into your world…”

Honestly, how could you not at this point? With that thought in your head… You fell asleep.

[daryltwdixon]

Joel Miller x Reader Just Coffee

fluffy Joel drabble to help clear my head. I was a barista for 8+ years and loved my regulars, so this is like a little slice of my life when I worked for a family owned coffee shop in the downtown of a city. Hope you enjoy! lmk if you want a ptII cause im thinking hot car sex w these two after their first date.

Inspired by that tlou (game) scene where Ellie asks if Joel used to go to coffee shops, and he admits, ‘All the time.’ And when she asks what he would order, he says, ‘Coffee, just coffee’ 

Vanilla latte, iced—extra pump of vanilla, three pumps of caramel, swirl, whipped cream. Chai latte, soy milk—hot, extra hot. Cold brew with sweet cream, shot of peppermint. London Fog—extra foamy, not too hot.

"Coffee. Just coffee."

You could’ve kissed him right then and there. And he was handsome enough that you wouldn’t even have to close your eyes. He must’ve caught the way your shoulders relaxed, how the sigh left your body like a weight lifted.

“Comin’ right up,” you smiled, ringing him up as he slid a few ones into your very, very empty tip jar.

‘Just Coffee’ guy settled at the small bar along the window, joining the usual morning stragglers—people who took their time with their warm mugs, occasionally ordering a bagel or a scone to go with it. He sat next to your crossword regular, an older gentleman who always had a puzzle in front of him, filling in the blanks with unwavering confidence. Always pen, never pencil.

You left them to it, but your eyes drifted toward ‘Just Coffee’ now and then, making sure his mug wasn’t too low, wasn’t getting too cold.

The morning flew by in a blur of orders and chatter, the shop filling and emptying in waves. By the time you checked back on ‘Just Coffee’ guy, he was gone.

A pang of disappointment sat low in your stomach. You wished you would’ve gotten him talking—he had that air about him, the kind of presence that carried stories. The people who sat at your bar top, the ones who weren’t rushing in and out for their nine-to-five caffeine fix, were always the most interesting.

You were surprised to see him the next day. A smile lifted at his lips as he stepped up in line, cash at the ready in his large, dirt-greased hands. A man who worked manual labor, clearly.

"Coffee," he said, his twang deep and velvety. "Just coffee, miss."

"You got it," you said with a smile, handing him a warm mug of your house roast as he took his new usual seat at the bar.

"Dammit—" the man next to him muttered, scratching his chin with the tip of his pen. Steve, your crossword regular. Under his nose, the day’s puzzle sat partially filled in, his brow furrowed in frustration. “What in the hell is the ‘process of leveling or smoothing wet concrete’? Seven letters?" He called your name, exasperated. "You got any idea?”

"Steve, if I knew anything about construction, I’d be way further along on my home improvement projects," you called over the hiss of the milk frother.

"Screedin’ is the word you’re lookin’ for, I think."

‘Just Coffee’ spoke casually, like it was second nature, his voice rolling low behind the lip of his mug. Steve blinked at him, like he hadn’t even realized the man was there, his wide eyes darting between him and the crossword.

"I think that might just work! How do ya spell that now? S-C-R-E—"

"S-C-R-E-E-D-I-N-G," ‘Just Coffee’ said slowly, the drawl thick and steady as the letters tumbled off his tongue.

You smiled to yourself, glancing his way. Knew he had to be manual labor. But before you could turn and ask him about it, he was already stepping off the stool, giving a quick nod of thanks, and heading for the door.

A couple of ones landed next to his empty mug—more than the cost of his coffee.

He didn’t come the next day.

Or the day after that.

By the fourth morning, you caught yourself lingering by the bar, staring at the empty stool where he sat. The coffee shop was just as busy, orders coming in waves, regulars dropping their change into the tip jar, Steve grumbling over his crossword. But something was missing.

You’d gotten used to those hazel eyes meeting yours across the counter, the quiet weight of his presence. The way his dark, unruly hair framed his face, always a little windswept, a little messy, like he’d rolled straight out of bed and into a long shift. His hands—rough, calloused, dirt still lingering in the creases—wrapped steady around a warm coffee mug.

It had only been a handful of mornings, but somehow, he’d settled into your routine like he belonged there.

And now, the absence of him gnawed at you in a way that surprised you.

You should’ve asked him his damn name.

By the sixth day, you convinced yourself it didn’t matter. He was just another customer, just a passing figure who needed a caffeine fix before moving on. Maybe he found a different coffee spot. Maybe he’d never been the type to stick around anyway.

But on the seventh morning, as you wiped down the counter, movement by the door caught your eye.

You turned, heart kicking up against your ribs.

There he was.

Another worn flannel, same dirt-streaked hands, same heavy-lidded gaze scanning the shop like he hadn’t been gone for a week. And when those hazel eyes finally landed on you, a flicker of something warm and familiar crossed his face.

You pushed off the counter before you could stop yourself.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” you said, trying to sound casual, but you knew he could hear the lilt of amusement in your voice.

“How are ya, miss?” he drawled, stepping up to the counter, cash already in hand. “Been busy.”

You nodded, trying not to stare too long at the way his fingers curled around the worn bills. “Let me guess—coffee, just coffee?”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “You got it.”

As you poured, you finally asked the question that had been itching at you since the first day he walked in.

“You got a name, or am I just supposed to keep callin’ you ‘Just Coffee’ forever?”

He smirked, tilting his head slightly as he watched you.

“Joel,” he said.

You smiled, setting his mug down in front of him. “Well, Joel—hope you don’t disappear on me again.”

His fingers brushed the warm ceramic as he settled onto his usual stool. “Jobs come and go, just depends on the day, hunny.”

Hunny. It was damn near like honey dripping from his tongue in that slow drawl, thick and warm. The way it rolled off his lips curled low in your belly, heating your cheeks as you turned to the next customer, hoping to God he didn’t notice.

The middle of the week was always slow, which worked in your favor today. By the time the morning rush faded, you found yourself wiping down the counters, clearing dishes near the bar, and finally getting the chance to ask Joel about his life.

You rinsed out a mug, letting the warm water run over your fingers as you glanced toward him. He was nursing his coffee slow, one hand wrapped around the mug, the other resting loose on the bar. His posture was easy, relaxed, but you could tell there was something there, something deep in his bones that he carried.

"So, what kinda jobs come and go?" you asked, keeping your tone light.

Joel glanced up from his mug, considering you for a moment. “Construction, mostly," he said, rolling his shoulders like the very word made them ache. "Been a contractor for years—fixin' up places, layin’ concrete, buildin’ what needs buildin'.”

Figures. Those arms—strong, steady—the kind that looked like they knew the weight of real work. His hands were large, rough and calloused, the kind you’d feel long after they touched you. But, Joel was a customer. You weren’t thinking that, of course not.

"Guess that explains why you knew the crossword answer last week," you teased, tossing the rag over your shoulder. "Steve still talks about it like you pulled magic outta thin air."

Joel huffed, shaking his head. "Man’s usin’ a pen for a crossword, and I’m the one impressin’ him?"

You grinned, leaning against the bar. "Hey, knowledge is power around here, Joel."

He let out a quiet hmm and took another sip of his coffee.

Before you could press further, the bell above the door jingled, and you got up hastily to take the newcomer’s order.

“Don’t worry about him,” Joel called over, sitting up straighter, setting down his coffee mug as his gaze flicked toward the man.

He stepped inside, his dark hair long, face clean-shaven, dimples deepening as he took in the scene. Something unspoken passed between the two of them—something that made it hard to tell if they were coworkers, friends, or something else entirely.

Then the man clapped Joel on the shoulder, grinning wide, “So this is what you’ve been ditchin’ the mornin’ crew for, huh, big brother?”

Your brows lifted. Brother.

Joel exhaled hard through his nose, eyes narrowing with obvious irritation, but his posture remained loose—like he was used to this, used to him.

“What ya got for me, Tommy?” he asked.

You barely had a second to process before Tommy’s attention shifted to you. His gaze swept over you, warm and playful, before he leaned a little too comfortably against the bar, ignoring his brother.

“Well now,” he drawled, flashing you a grin that could probably talk its way out of a speeding ticket, “if I knew this was the kinda place Joel was sneakin’ off to, I would’ve tagged along a whole lot sooner.”

Joel muttered something under his breath and rubbed his forehead.

You crossed your arms, biting back a smile. “And here I thought he just liked my coffee.”

Tommy let out a low chuckle, tilting his head. “Can’t say I blame him, darlin’.”

Joel let out a long, long sigh, already done with whatever this was turning into. He stood, tugging his jacket over his broad shoulders before clapping a firm hand on Tommy’s back—firm like a warning.

“C’mon,” Joel muttered, steering him toward the door.

Tommy let himself be dragged, but not without a final wink in your direction. “I’ll be seein’ you around, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t help the giggle that slipped past your lips as Joel shoved him out the door with far more force than necessary, the bell jingling wildly as they disappeared outside.

Joel glanced back once, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe the last two minutes of his life before heading off into the distance.

You just smiled, shrugging as you wiped down the counter.

But things changed after that morning.

Tommy only needed to step through the damn door before Joel was tensing at the bar, a muscle twitching in his jaw, his coffee suddenly the least interesting thing in the room. He continued to show up every morning, still ordered just coffee, still sat in his usual spot—but now, his eyes lingered on you more.

And now, he stayed just a little longer.

Not by much, not enough for anyone else to notice, but you did.

You noticed how his gaze flicked toward you between sips, how his fingers tapped idly against his mug whenever you laughed at something a customer said.

His brother joined him more too. You noticed the way he cut Tommy off real quick anytime his brother got a little too comfortable leaning against the counter, that exasperated “Tommy” carrying a warning underneath it.

And you noticed how his tips got just a little bigger after that morning, a couple extra bills tucked under his mug like an unspoken thank you.

So when a week passed—no sign of Tommy this time, no interruptions, just Joel sitting at your bar—you wondered if today might be different.

And it was.

Because today, as you cleared a dish from the counter, Joel cleared his throat. Not the casual kind, not the I’m just readjusting in my seat kind.

The nervous kind.

You glanced up, brows lifting. “What’s eatin’ ya, Joel?”

Joel exhaled sharply, shifting in his seat. “Yeah. Just—uh.” He scratched at the back of his neck, avoiding your eyes. “You, uh… ever eat anywhere that ain’t this place?”

Your lips twitched. “You askin’ if I leave my own coffee shop, Joel?”

His jaw tightened, clearly close to regretting whatever he was doing, but he powered through.

“I’m askin’ if you’d wanna get somethin’ to eat. When your shift is done.” He finally met your gaze, voice a little gruffer than usual, but there was something hesitant in his expression—like he was braced for you to shut him down, “With me.”

You leaned back against the counter, arms crossing as you took your time, letting him sit in it for a second. Watching the way his fingers curled around his coffee mug, how he resisted the urge to shift under your gaze.

Then you smiled. “Are you asking me out?”

His eyes flicked away, like he really hated how direct you were, but you could see the tips of his ears turning pink.

“Yeah,” he muttered. Then, after a pause—“That…a problem?”

You bit your lip, shaking your head. “Not at all.”

Joel’s fingers flexed against his mug. “Good.”

You grabbed a napkin and a pen, scribbling something before sliding it across the counter. “Then you’re gonna need my number.”

He eyed it, then you, something unreadable in his gaze before he finally, finally reached for it. His fingers brushed yours as he folded the napkin, tucking it into his pocket without another word.But you swore—swore—you saw the ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he took another slow sip of his coffee.

[naniwatig3r]

CONTOUR LINES (18+)

Mingyu x artstudent!Femreader

Summary: You’ve finally broken up with your boyfriend Mingyu. Ignoring him has been hard, but you were finally at peace. But he had other plans, as he shows up to the figure drawing class you T.A…. And as the model.

Warnings: Unexplained breakup (im lazy lol), angst, cute fluff sometimes, art school stress, public nudity, public unprotected penetrative sex (no one is around though!), quickie

a/n: this was a idea i got while messing around with my friend who has a thing for mingyu, lol.

Word count: uhhh, around 7k ? I can’t remember 😅

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Another miss call.

Great, you thought, the tenth missed call from your ex boyfriend Mingyu this week.

It’s been about a month since you broke up with your ex, Kim Mingyu. It was an odd pairing in the first place. You met him coincidentally in the quad the beginning of the year, as you sat at the edge of the school fountain. Your sketchbook open, as you drew the scenery and people around you. A normal activity you did as an arts student.

You were clearly in the zone, drawing the fold in a random college student’s arm, before a voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Whoa, you can draw.”

Your eyes snap up, seeing a towering figure, completely blocking your view. No shit, you thought.

“Yeah, I guess.” You say plainly, hoping your short answer would deter this guy. But then the sunlight is back on the page you’re drawing, and you feel his warm presence sit right next to you. Maybe he’s just sitting down to sit down, so you try and finish your life drawing of the current student, but they were gone. Probably going to their next class.

Huffing, you still for a moment to put your pencil down.

“I wish I could draw like that,” You hear, as you glance to your side. Furrowing your eyebrows in irritation as the man leans over to stare directly into your sketchbook. “You’re a really good drawer.” He says in awe.

“Yeah, uh, thanks.” You say curtly, as he continues to stare at your sketches like he’s at a museum. These sketches were nothing compared to a Degas or something, yet he stared at them like it was, his brown eyes flickering around in interest.

He clears his throat, as he looks up to meet your eyes. He smiles, a toothy one where you notice how sharp his canines were. Cute.

He pulls his sleeve up from his wrist to his elbow, holding his large hand out, “Mingyu. Kim Mingyu.” He says, introducing himself. You nod, reluctantly shaking his hand, his grip tight and strong.

“Y/n.” You say back shortly, eyeing him, wondering how long this tall man was going to bother you.

He lets go of your hand, as he adjusts his position to turn more towards you. One leg over the other, leaning forward. His bangs falling so perfectly across his eyebrow, that it made you narrow your eyes. It’s crazy, people like this seriously exist huh?

“Do you do art or something?” No shit.

You nod, “Yeah, I’m a fine arts major.” You respond, giving him a strained polite smile. It felt like you had to, the way this guy has been beaming at you like a puppy as you give the driest replies.

He grins, “Whoa, no way. Thats cool,” He praises, “I’m—“

The rest of the meet cute didn’t matter.

After this, you kept bumping into him, coincidence you thought at first, but thinking back… he had no reason to be near the art school area of the campus.

He always asked to see your sketchbook, or whatever was in your portfolio folder as you tried to get to your studio. Even helping you carry your supplies and folders inside, and once he learned where you worked he came with iced coffee when he could.

At 3 am, he’d lay on the floor of your messy studio, watching you as you mix another color on your palette. Your sweatshirt pushed to your elbows, paint on your hands and face as you work on the gigantic canvas for your final.

“You don’t have to be here, you know,” You say a bit softly, your eyes tired despite your multiple energy drinks. “It must be boring to watch me throw paint for the last few hours.”

He shakes his head, sitting up as he looks at you with his puppy like eyes. “No, I like it. You’re so focused…” He trails, “I didn’t think art would be this hard.”

You glare at him for that remark, making him immediately tread back. His mouth gaping open and closing like a fish, “Ah! Not like that it’s easy — just that you’re so passionate you know?” He explains, throwing his hands around.

Rolling your eyes, you put your brush back into the muddy cup of water. “Why? Engineering not doing it for you?” You ask lazily, as you pull your claw clip out of your hair. Massaging your scalp from the tension.

Mingyu’s eyes focused on you, his cheeks slightly flushing. Eyes roving over how strands of your hair effortlessly frame your face. He clears his throat, “Uh, no. I like it. I’ve always been good at studying, and I get the material so,” He says, as he scratches his head.

“But I guess, it’s different watching you. Your eyes are different when you’re drawing, painting, sculpting. Whatever.” He says quietly.

“Different?” You muse, standing up to stretch your legs. Mingyu following instinctively, his tall frame dwarfing you.

He nods, “Mhm, yeah. I thought art was just a major for people who didn’t want to do anything, but getting to know you…” he says, as he follows you to your studio table. As you open the most recent energy drink you got from the vending machine. “You just don’t stop. Like you’re meant to do it.” He breathes.

His genuine words make you raise an eyebrow, turning to him. You give him a small smile, making his heart rate jump. “Yeah? It’s like you, I think.” You say, taking a sip of that battery acid of a drink. “I’ve just been doing this since forever. Natural to keep going.” You say nonchalantly, but Mingyu looks at you like you’re a living genius.

“Thats whats so cool,” He gushes, “You’re just made to do this.” He says, as he glances at your current work in progress. A large canvas with pleasing colors, his eye being drawn to the right areas. The beautifully rendered figure, framed with all the right strokes.

He looks back at you, with such an adoration you think it’s hallucinations from doing so many allnighters.

“Ah,” he starts, as he moves his long legs to shuffle through his bag, pulling out some tupperware. “I forgot, I was making uh, some dinner earlier and I had leftovers.” He lies, knowing full well he made it for you. He turns around, opening the tupperware to reveal a lunch box of different side dishes and protein. It could rival any meal inspo on pinterest, as he even carefully cut out seaweed to make cute faces.

You snicker, making Mingyu’s cheeks pink. “Leftovers huh?” You say, as you grab the lunchbox from him. Your fingers brushing over his, a welcome warmth from the cold air conditioning of the studio. “Thanks, I appreciate it. I was just gonna make some ramen.”

“Yeah no problem,” He strains, smiling. “You need energy to keep on going right? At least eat well if you’re gonna sacrifice your sleep.”

You take a bite, and even though it was cold, you nod in approval at the taste. The annoyingly large man could cook. Your reaction makes Mingyu grin, as you can see shamelessly how much that did to his ego.

“Still, you should go you know?” You say, as you remember Mingyu talking about his week a few days ago as you painted. “Don’t you have an exam tomorrow?”

Oh? He doesn’t focus on the fact that you’re asking him to go. Only that you remembered his schedule. He grins, “You remembered huh?”

You roll your eyes, “Of course I did. You told me.” You say, your own cheeks reddening from how embarrassed you felt from Mingyu’s reaction. Why was he so excited?

He shakes his head, “It’s fine, I was reviewing earlier. It’s in the afternoon anyways.”

You finish the lunchbox, washing it down with your energy drink before going to pick up a new large paint brush. “Fine by me then,” you sigh, not bothering to argue with him. It was weird the first time he accompanied you on an allnighter, but Mingyu’s presence became a normal occurrence since then.

And there he was, sitting obediently like a dog next to you as you continued painting. Your playlist ending hours ago, as the only sounds are the strokes of your brush, and the breathing of both of you.

It was like this for a while, until near the end of the year. This time, you were running out of steam.

Maybe it was all the all nighters the whole year, or the fact you got sick right before finals, but you were stuck in your studio once more. Slaving away as you work on your third painting of the night, trying to get your exhibition finished before sunlight.

You hear the sound of the door opening. He had his own key now — you copied one at one point since he always was knocking. Mingyu coming in with late night take out in one hand, clad in grey sweatpants and a hoodie, ready to tackle the night with you.

You don’t even bother looking behind you, his familiar presence and cologne already telling you who it is. “Hey,” He says softly, putting the food down as he notices your tired state. It was like you were running on fumes, the amount of empty redbulls and monsters around your studio telling him all he needed to know.

You grunt, “Yeah, hey.” You say tiredly, as you wipe your face with the back of your hand. Paint smearing on your cheek. Mingyu comes over with a napkin from the takeout container, huffing as he wipes your cheek with it.

“Whens the last time you took a break?” He asks, a bit worried. Despite hanging out with you for so long, he wouldn’t say he knew anything about art. But he knew you. And the way your wrist movements against the canvas were sluggish, and the way your eyebrows furrowed as the strokes didn’t land and look the way you wanted… he knew you were at your limit.

“Doesn’t matter, I have another painting after this.” You say roughly, “Fuck, I’m such an idiot. I should have painted when I was sick. At least worked on the concepts and colors so I didn’t have to figure it out right now.” You rant, sucking your bottom lip into your teeth.

Mingyu frowns, “No, y/n. What about a fifteen minute break? I got burgers, it’ll help.” He says, but your face isn’t budging, like the strict deadlines for the paintings.

You curse, “God, Mingyu, I can’t stop. All the fucking pieces look like shit, if I stall any longer I’ll never finish this ass of an exhibition.” You say shakily, as you haphazardly throw your brush into the water cup, the muddy water splashing out. You grab another brush to pick up a new color.

He looks around the 10 other pieces littered around the room drying, he doesn’t get it, and he never would. They all looked great, cohesive despite your protests. “Y/n, they look great. You gotta take a break you know? Maybe it’ll help. Maybe your eyes will like, reset or something. You’ve been looking at this painting for hours.” He says, trying to reason.

You don’t listen, as you flick your wrist harshly to create a quick line of color.

clack!

You wince, dropping your brush to clatter on the floor. Your wrist acting up at the worst time, as you curse under your breath. Mingyu’s hands go up instinctively to hold your wrist, holding it still.

“God, now my wrist is flaring up too. Great, just what I need!” You curse bitterly, your head down.

Mingyu holds your wrist gently, despite your angry state you don’t push him away as he gingerly inspects your wrist. “Hey, come on. Lets take a break, and then we can wrap your hand alright?” He says softly, trying to coax you.

He leans down to see your hidden face, and it breaks his heart. Hot tears welling in your eyes from stress, frustration, and the impending deadline.

He doesn’t think twice, leaning down to hold you into an embrace, pulling you off your stool into his arms. Tight, the tips of your shoes barely grazing the floor. You can’t help but cry into his shoulder, “God, why am I so bad? I can’t show anyone any of this,” You sob, as Mingyu rubs your back. His grip tightening around you, holding you close as you basically collapse into his arms.

“Hey, y/n, you’ve just been working too long. Lets take a break alright? It’ll look better once you rest your eyes a bit, I promise.” He coos, “I’ve got some burgers and sweet potato fries, even convinced them to give me extra —“

“Mingyu, why are you always here?” You ask bluntly, choking back your tears. Through the whole year you’ve been tolerating him getting closer. First, random conversations when you bumped into each other on campus, then visiting the art school, coming to your studio, staying to keep you company. You never once tried to push him away, but you didn’t understand how he hasn’t been turned off yet. Your all nighters, your insecurities, the way you reject his invitations to campus parties and events to work. It was all a mystery, especially as you crash out in his arms, over some acrylic and oil on canvas. This must look pathetic to him.

His eyes are a bit panicked at the question, “I uh, do you not want me to be?” He asks reluctantly, still holding you close.

You sniff, your hand against his chest, gripping the fabric of his hoodie into your fist.

“No, I just... Thank you.” You say quietly into his chest, and Mingyu felt his head spin. You could definitely hear it, he thought, the way his heart was pounding out his chest. How you relied on him, telling him to stay. If it wasn’t for the fact you were leaning on him to stay up, he’d probably melt into a puddle on the floor.

Mingyu takes you to the table, helping you sit down on one of the comfier chairs. A foldable one with a pillow he brought at one point, so he could watch you comfortably. He boasted once — y/n look! Found this by the dumpster!

You let out a deep sigh as you sit down, Mingyu bending down to his knees to look at you eye level. A hand to your cheek as you close your eyes tiredly. “Hey, you okay?” He asks, searching your face.

You nod, “Yeah, um, sorry,” You sigh, “I’m just — I’m just stressed. I didn’t mean to have a breakdown in front of you.” You say apologetically, embarrassed by it. But he shakes his head, not affected by it. In fact, it probably caused him to fall harder, seeing how hard you work.

“Don’t apologize,” He says, pushing strands of your hair back. You look up at him, straight into his brown eyes. The way he looks at you so fondly, worried, that his bottom lip juts out slightly as he observes you. The way his fingers felt along your cheek, how he’s warmed you up in the cold room, brought takeout for you.

Fuck, how his hair is tousled under the hood, and the fact his face was a sight for sore eyes after looking at your paintings all day. Something with actual 3d planes staring at you, instead of flat canvas. Maybe it was the all nighters, the fact you’re on multiple energy drinks on an empty stomach, or that Mingyu is there for you.

You lean forward, shutting your eyes shut as you push your lips against his.

It’s warm, soft… might even get lost in it if—

You pull back after a second, as you see Mingyu’s wide eyes.

Oh fuck, did you read this wrong? Shit, at least you can blame it on lack of sleep—

A pair of lips crash into yours again, this time, you part yours as Mingyu’s warm lips mold into yours. Its warm, and comforting and everything nice, as you grab his collar to pull him closer. Making him stumble forward as he holds onto the edge of the chair to steady himself close to you.

You let out a soft breath as Mingyu snakes his free hand around to the small or your back, pushing you close as possible to him. Mingyu compensating for your lack of energy with his, as he kisses you deeply, something he’s always wanted to do. Every since he watched you draw random people at that campus fountain.

He pulls back as you pathetically try to chase his lips, as he kisses you chastely before speaking. “Y/n,” He breathes, “Fuck, you don’t know how long I wanted to do that.” He confesses, as he holds your face in his large hands.

You smile softly, “Mingyu, I—“

The box of charcoals clatter, as you accidentally drop it right next to the table of supplies. Sheepishly you bow at the students in class, not meaning to disrupt their focus.

You bend down to pick up the charcoal. What are you doing? It may be the third figure drawing class today, but dropping a box of pencils as you recount your days with Mingyu was horrible. Terrible.

Especially when you boasted to one of your friends as you shared a meal, Ah, Kim Mingyu? Thats over. Lets just focus on grad review.

You sigh, standing back up as you slide the box of art supplies on the table. Checking the time, you slide the notifications of Mingyu’s missed calls away. It was five minutes before class started, where the hell was the model?

And as if on cue, the other T.A. comes skitting towards you, pushing her glasses up as she avoids the boxes of supplies around the room. “Ah, Y/n—“ She starts, talking quietly to not cause alarm.

She stops in front of you, as you furrow your brows. Today the professor wasn’t in. As the consistent T.A., she trusted you to handle today with no substitutes. It wasn’t anything hard. You just helped set up the drawing horses and supplies, adjusted the lights and made sure the models were comfortable. It was easier especially when another T.A. was assigned to assist you today.

“Hm? What?” You ask, as you dust your hands.

She takes a deep breath, “Um, well, the model got food poisoning.” She starts. Leaning in so other students didn’t hear. “I just learned this right now, she’s like in the bathroom in the main hall throwing up like crazy.”

You frown, “What? Is she okay?” You say, straightening up, walking towards the front door grabbing your jacket off one of the stray art horse chairs.

She follows clumsily, “She’s fine! But she can’t model for this class. I know you’re in charge, but I panicked and just called whoever was on the emergency model list.”

You stop, causing the other T.A. to bump into your back, with a little squeak. A small what should have been insignificant memory flooding back.

“You’re TAing now? Seriously?” Mingyu asks lightly, as he fiddles with a loose strand of your sweater, the rough pads of his fingers pulling on it.

You slap his hand away disapprovingly, causing him to pout. “Yeah, just for figure drawing. I want to make a little money anyways, but working at the campus cafe is too time consuming.” You respond, as you continue to draw in your sketchbook. Outlining the foliage in front of you with your pen.

“Hm, what would that mean?” He asks, leaning forward to wrap an arm around your shoulder. Careful not to disturb your drawing, as he rests his chin on your closer shoulder. Watching you draw was his favorite past time nowadays.

“Just like, setting up, taking care of the figure drawing models. Things like that.” You respond absentmindedly.

“Models? Like, thats a job?” He asks, making you crack a smile. You forget how normal people knew nothing about art. You’re just glad he was openminded about basically everything.

You turn to look at him, “Yeah, the school hires people to pose for drawing. Its for studying.” You respond, as you tap your pen against the tip of his nose, where his beloved mole resided. Making him scrunch his nose, the corners of his lips turning up.

“Actually, I should write the emergency contact list. The professor updates every semester of models to contact if theres no shows, and the et cetera. I should just do it now so I don’t forget —“

“Add me on there then.”

You blink.

“Huh, what?” You say confused, looking at him with raised brows.

He straightens up, “You heard me. Add my number to that list. It sounds interesting,” He defends, his tone light.

You shake your head, smiling. “Mingyu, you don’t get it. You have to stand there naked, and do different poses every five to thirty minutes. Its not an easy thing to do.” You say, dismissing his words as nonsense. Sometimes he was too eager to try things just because they existed in your world.

Mingyu doesn’t falter. “Yeah I know. I just, it sounds cool. Also having a bunch of people drawing me, I don’t know… sounds nice. Also its like emergency contact right?” He says shrugging, “It’s not like it’ll actually happen. I know you’d never call me if it was an emergency, but just add me on it. If all models decide they’re not feeling it that day.” He suggests lightly.

You stare at him still in disbelief, narrowing your eyes. He scoffs, leaning forward to lean his forehead against yours as a challenge. A little goofy smile on his face, “What? Come on. Just add me to the list.”

The rational side of you knew this would never actually happen. Mingyu had no qualifications, and besides, there was a dozen other numbers to call before him. So you suck it up, sighing, writing his name down. Just for the sake that he’d shut up about it.

“Okay, fine.”

Your heart beats, eyes wide as you try to calm yourself. You didn’t want to release your anger against this girl for trying to fix the situation. It was your fault, really, in the first place to put his number on there. But this never was something that has happened before.

“Which number picked up?” You ask calmly, clasping your hands together as you focus on not exploding on your fellow T.A.

“Uh, just called the first one. He said he was on campus so he was down, and we only have five minutes till class—“

“Jesus, his name please?”

“Kim Mingyu.”

Oh fuck. Fuuuucckkkkk.

Mouth wide, and panicked eyes, you start to speak, before you hear the opening of the classroom door. You turn, and your face practically goes pale.

There he was — Kim Mingyu, just in a simple coat and pants. His eyes immediately landing on you. Its only been a month, but he cut his hair. Slightly shorter than you remember, as you tilt your head.

Stop it. You have to act normal.

You take a deep breath, trying to act professional. There was no time to question why the hell he’d even pick up and walk all the way here. Or why your heart was beating so fast, just looking at him.

“Um, escort him to the dressing room area.” You start, prying your eyes from Mingyu to the other T.A. “There should be a clean robe there too.” You inform, patting her arm as you beeline straight away from them.

You find a haphazardly stacked amount of newsprint, focusing on making all the edges match as you calm your heart. It’s fine, it really is.

For some reason Mingyu was interested in figure drawing modeling before. Maybe he just wanted to cross that off his bucket list, and had nothing to do with you.

The other T.A. comes back to stand beside you, “Is he comfortable?” You ask.

“Yeah, he’s fine. Just seems a little inexperienced,” She responds, scratching her cheek. “He asked if he had to take all his clothes off, and I was like, huh? Yeah? But other that that—“

“Yeah, alright.” You interrupt dryly. “Thank you. I’ll just take over after this.” You say, as you grab the timer from the table.

You walk towards the center, clearing your throat as the art students look up. “Right, hi. Professor Kang isn’t here today, but don’t mind. Today will be quite an easy day.” You start, crossing your arms.

Your eyes immediately follow to the ruffle of the dressing curtain, as Mingyu walks out in a fluffy robe. Brown eyes meet yours, and for a second you think this will be fine. Until the corners of his lips turn up, into a toothy grin only you knew so well.

That motherfucker. Bucket list my ass, he said yes just to mess with you!

You turn away sharply, focusing back on the class. “The model today is Kim Mingyu.” You say shortly, before stepping off the small platform.

You gesture for Mingyu to walk to the center, your face stone cold as you watch him step onto the platform.

He clears his throat, “Do I take the robe off now?” He asks cluelessly.

Great, just show everyone you have no clue what you’re doing. If this was a few months ago, it’d be cute. But Mingyu standing hopelessly waiting for instructions was annoying you, to say the least.

You nod, and immediately, he undoes his robe and lets it fall to the floor.

You can’t help but stare. Your lips pressed into a thin line, your body tense. Stop stop stop! You couldn’t give him a reaction. As an artist, it was normal to see naked bodies. It wasn’t a sexual thing, especially in figure drawing. But Mingyu wasn’t just an old man or something. He was a conventionally attractive, tall, well built man. In more places than one.

“Oh shit, he’s hot.” The other T.A. whispers to you, covering her mouth. You bite back your embarrassment, as you just send her a glare for her unprofessional reaction.

It doesn’t help that other people around the room are pleasantly surprised by Mingyu, as I see pink dusting around people’s cheeks. It was infuriating, to say the least.

“Holy shit, a hot model. Is this real?”

“I thought we had a middle aged woman today. Bro… score!”

“I’ve never stared so closely.”

“Alright, warm ups. Ten one minute poses.” You say plainly, holding up the timer and pressing down on it. Immediately, Mingyu nods, springing into action.

His poses were something else. They were a bit awkward, as he stood there. First putting his hands on his hips, staring at the ground.

But he started getting more comfortable. After the ten one minute poses were up, the other T.A. Adds a stool to the platform for Mingyu to sit on.

“One pose, 15 minutes.” You say, setting the timer again.

This time instead of looking at the ground, wall, or ceiling, he stared straight at you. His eyes unwavering. The sight makes your mouth go dry, as the studio lights enhance Mingyu’s features perfectly.

His face framed by the little curl of his bang, light bouncing off his tanned skin as the definition of his muscles are on display. The way his large shoulders balance his proportions, and his skin smooth and tightly wrapped around his toned torso. He always was working out, and it seemed like he kept that up, as your eyes trail from his abs to his bottom half. Your cheeks flushing as he’s so unabashedly bare in front of the whole room.

But it only propelled your anger. How could he? Just step into your domain — the art school wing — and just come here? Posing like a gangly weirdo, riding on his looks so none of the students complained. Staring straight into your eyes as a confrontation. So much it felt like he was telepathically speaking to you.

Why aren’t you returning my calls? Or, how does this make you feel? It was infuriating.

And as if satisfied in your attention on him, he smirks, like he won some imaginary battle. This idiot.

The timer rings, making you flinch against the supply table. Your cheeks flush slightly, as you clear your throat. “Another 6 poses, each 2 minutes.” You manage to choke out, pressing the timer.

As the figure session goes on for the next hour, Mingyu’s confidence was starting to irritate you to no end. At first what was awkward, was now overtly dramatic. His poses of showing off his muscles, flexing his back, it was too much. People were here to draw, not ogle.

You decided to play, not wanting Mingyu to have the upper hand. As Mingyu goes to pick up the robe off the ground, you yell, “Stop right there!”

Mingyu freezes immediately, mainly out of confusion. His eyes drifting to you, a slight furrow of his brows.

“Now, the model will stay still. Do you see how the arm connects to the shoulder blades? Please turn to a new paper and start focusing on that area.” You say, stopping Mingyu in an uncomfortable position in the name of education.

You eye how his leg starts to shake from holding it, but it only fuels you. “Now focus on the thigh muscle, we’ll hold this pose for another 3 minutes.” You say, a little glee seeping into your voice.

Mingyu’s eyes shooting up to glare at you, as you cock your head and smile.

You push Mingyu to do crazy things, like pretending to do a lay up for 10 minutes to talk about line of action. Or when you asked the students to move in closer to draw his face, having twenty people at once hyper fixate on his expression. Now, the class was fun. You completely turned it around.

The timer rings. “Alright, lunch break.” You say, as it’s half way through the 6 hour class.

Theres a collective sigh of relief, as students massage their wrists, and Mingyu putting his robe back on, but loosely. Letting his chest peek out through the fabric, as he walks around the room.

You watch as he circles, smiling and complimenting others.

“Wow, thats really good.”

“Whoa, really love how you drew that one.”

“Is that how I look? I’m flattered! Thanks.”

You huff, looking away as you catch a glimpse of him leaning over a pretty girl’s shoulder as she shows her sketches. Purposefully letting the loose robe drape his exposed chest as he examines the drawings.

Students get up to stretch their bones outside, getting lunch during the break. The other T.A. goes to check on something, leaving only you and Mingyu in the figure drawing room.

You stand, ignoring him as you walk towards the platform, readjusting the power of the studio lights. “Next part of the class is long poses,” You say, twisting the knob. “So it’ll be harsh lights. you just have to sit there, it’ll easy.”

You turn back around, Mingyu looking at you with a small smile, barely a yard away. His hands on his hips, as he looks down at you. “You know,” He drawls, his voice low. “This was a lot more fun than I thought.”

“Is it?” You respond bitterly, “Well I’m glad. Because you’re not gonna be paid for this.” You inform him, as Mingyu isn’t a real model signed with the school.

“Thats okay, I’m getting what I wanted anyways.”

You sigh, as you cross your arms. Deciding not to beat around the bush.

“What are you doing here, Mingyu?” You ask tiredly, finally looking at him straight, your brows furrowed. You boldly looking into his playful eyes.

His smug expression softens, almost reminiscent to how he would look at you before everything. He takes his bottom lip under his teeth, chewing as he looks at you.

“You seriously need me to answer that? Like always?” He says quietly, but with only you two in the studio, he could whisper from across the room and you’d still catch it.

“What, like you actually answer me with anything that makes sense?” You respond back tightly. Sighing, you relax your shoulders, biting your cheek as you glance away from him. A student’s messy pencil case catching your attention, albeit forced.

A deafening silence falls. Mingyu never really liked to fight anyways.

“You’re, you’re difficult, you know that?” He starts, as he ruffles his hair with his hand, as if that would release his pent up frustration. “When I got the random phone call that you guys needed a last minute model, I thought for a second it was intentional.”

He takes a step closer, “But of course not. You looked like you saw a ghost when I walked in.”

You gulp, “Well, to be fair, thats what you are now.” You say quietly. Avoiding his eyes.

“Oh? So I’m just dead to you?”

“No, that would be easier.” You snap, finally looking back to face his eyes. Mingyu’s jaw clenched, his eyebrows knitted, trying to figure you out like an abstract art piece.

He swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing as he lets out a disappointed huff. “y/n.” He starts firmly, in a tone he barely used.

But of course, directed to you, making your skin crawl in the overly air conditioned room.

Hands on his hips, as he takes a long breath, his head facing down as he hides his expression. “For an artist, you’re really shit at expressing your feelings.” He sighs, his bangs hiding whatever you could gather from him.

“Fine.” He concludes, looking up, his shoulders more relaxed. “I’ll stop bothering you about it, since you’re so sure.” He says throwing his arms out. “On one condition.”

You furrow your brows in confusion, wary of whatever condition he was gonna propose. Mingyu could be unpredictable when you pushed him, making the hair at the back of your neck stand.

“Draw me.” He says finally. He glances at the clock on the wall, “They still have that lunch break. So just draw me at least once, before everyone comes back.” He proposes, turning around to walk casually to the platform, as if he’s assuming you would just do it.

Is he serious? You weren’t even together anymore, and yet he wants a free commission from you? Thats crazy, like you’d ever —

“Fine.” You say curtly, “Since you’re so desperate for my attention anyways.” You quip, walking over to the supply table, making sure your shoes stomp against the hard floor. You swipe some spare paper, clipboard, and some charcoal.

The second you were at an art horse in front of Mingyu though, your fire waned slightly. The dead silence of the room was deafening, as you adjust your clipboard. The sound of the metal clips thumping against the paper, the feet of the art horse squeaking as you adjust sitting on the worn wood.

When you gaze up at Mingyu, it was obvious. He really was getting what he wanted, and it was your undivided attention.

Once ready, the charcoal in your hand, Mingyu sits down on the stool, eyes steady on you as he grips the already loose tie around his robe with his large hand. Letting it fall, as he exposes himself once more in the bright lights you set up yourself. He kicks the robe away off the platform, set on you drawing him like this.

You blink back any feelings that threaten to show on your face, readjusting the charcoal in your hand as you avoid Mingyu’s eyes, pressing down to finally start a line.

Its been a while since you last drew figures, and it usually took an hour of continuous drawing before you really found your pace in figure drawing sessions. But it was different this time.

Your heart beats in your ears, a silence of the room highlighting the sound of your charcoal smearing against the newsprint — the sounds of your breathing and of Mingyu’s, as time passes. Agonizingly slowly, yet a focus every artist aches for.

Your hand moves accordingly. Outlining the contour of his silhouette, the way his neck slopes, the soft lines that shape his abs he always was working on. Pressing for pressure with your charcoal as you indicate the weight of him sitting on the stool, hands in his laps loose as you capture his likeness with ease.

But the focus doesn’t last for long, especially when you flicker your eyes back to his. Already flicking a stroke to mimic his right eyelid, before you still. Pressing the tip of your charcoal into the paper, crumbling against the grain as you stare into his large brown eyes.

Fuck. What are you even doing?

Why are you drawing him so intently, when you vowed just a while ago that you never wanted to see Mingyu again?

Your breath hitches, as you raise your arm, flickering back to your drawing. Charcoal in the air, swinging to run a huge line through your figure of him, to smear it, to destroy it, to —

Your wrist stops mid air, as you feel a warm grip tightening around you. Eyes wide, you unfocus on the paper, to look up. Somehow in your tiny melt down Mingyu got down from the platform.

He looks down at you, eyebrows furrowed. Jaw tense, “You were just gonna ruin it, weren’t you?” He asks you quietly.

You can’t help but knit your brows, a pained expression forming that matches the one in his eyes.

The charcoal clatters out of your hand, landing on the floor in broken pieces.

Tears start welling in your eyes, your bottom lip trembling. “You’re right,” You start shakily, “I don’t know… how to address anything unless I’m drawing.” You say weakly.

Mingyu’s eyes soften slightly, swallowing hard as the bright lights highlight the contour of throat bobbing. “Yeah, seems like it.” He replies carefully. You expected him to use this as a told you so, maybe give you a smug smile, like, I knew you weren’t over me.

But Mingyu was never like that anyways. No matter how much he craved your attention, he also wanted your peace of mind. A hard thing to ask from an artist like you.

His grip on your wrist softens, as he kneels down, getting eye level with you as you still sit on the art horse. Holding your hand in his, rubbing a thumb over the veins on the back of your hand gently.

“I miss you.” You finally muster, your eyes focused on his.

“I miss you too.” He responds back, before cracking a small smile.

You strain your brows into a furrow, blinking back the warm tears you naturally formed from the vulnerable moment. A shaky huff also coming out of you, as you decide to lean forward.

Inching your face closer, until the tip of your noses brush, Mingyu stiffening slightly as you shyly graze your lips against his lips. A small breath escaping his lips, fanning over yours before you finally part them.

Your lips against his — it was like home. Finding your way back after such a tumultuous and useless road. The warmth of his lips seeping into you, Mingyu as relieved as you are. His hands finding its way to the sides of your face, pulling you impossibly closer.

It only escalates, as you open your mouth wider to push your tongue against his, making Mingyu groan out as he meets you with similar enthusiasm.

He pulls you forward, off the art horse. Taking you down to the ground, maneuvering you until your back is against the hard floor. Covering you with his large frame, his weight pressing down on you in ways you were having such a hard time admitting you missed.

It was fast, and albeit messy and rushed. Like trying to make up for wasted time as you pull him close, hands wrapped around the back of his neck as your lips go numb, your teeth clashing.

You let out a whine, when Mingyu pulls away with a heavy breath, fighting against your attempts to pull him back for a kiss.

“Y/n — fuck, can we?” He asks hurriedly, his voice breathless. A look of want in his big eyes, but there was also a little responsibility.

First of all — anyone could walk into the studio any second. There was only a lunch break, sure, an hour. But at least half of it has passed.

As you take your bottom lip under your teeth, chewing at your swollen lip as you think. And Mingyu knows exactly what look you were giving him, and he wasn’t going to reject you. Not now.

He leans back in, crashing his lips against yours in a sloppy kiss, breath hot against yours, before moving to your jaw. Leaving open mouthed rushed kisses down your neck, as you move your hands down his back. Feeling the muscles you were forcing yourself to look away from during the whole first half of class.

Touching Mingyu was way better than just drawing him from afar. You’re sure on that.

He moves his hand down, to push your midi skirt up, bunching the fabric to your hips. Your legs exposed to the cold air of the studio, as he wastes no time to slide your panties to the side. Already wet and damp from the heavy making out, and partially to the adrenaline of being in such a risky place.

“Damn, already?” He says, with a slight tease to his voice, making you pinch his arm. He lets out a pained chuckle, before placing his thick fingers against yours core, a gasp escaping your lips.

It helped that he knew you so well already, your legs squirming around the sides of him as he runs his fingers through yours wet folds, his thumb circling your clit as he inserts two fingers in, stretching you out as you gasp, Mingyu attacking your neck with messy kisses as he gets you ready for him.

“Fuck, Gyu,” You whine, your eyes rolling back in pleasure as he curls his fingers, hitting the spongy flesh that makes you arch your back off of the floor.

You weren’t the only one worked up, Mingyu being bare this entire time. His dick pressing up against the inner of your thigh, hardening at the sounds of your pleasure.

Your hand shoots down to grab hold of him, helping him get hard as he lets out a moan, as you tighten your grip. Pumping him a few times, lining him up to you as he removes his hand from your entrance.

You both let out soft gasps as you hold his dick to swipe against you, coating him in your arousal, his tip leaking with precum.

He doesn’t even ask, he just knows, as he pushes in, filling you inch by inch. The friction from your pulled to the side panties, to the tight warm walls of your pussy, making him feel lightheaded with pleasure.

“Fuck, you’re so tight baby,” He breathes, without even adjusting, he ruts into you roughly. Bottoming out as he knocks the wind out of you.

A whine escapes your throat, as you hold tightly around his shoulders, as Mingyu doesn’t slow his pace.

Its rough, its fast, and overall — desperate. The lewd sounds of flesh colliding echoing in the empty studio. Your mind going dumb at his fast pace, only focused on how he goes in, out. In, out.

The smell of his sweat, the way your hands run down his exposed body, all for you. He did this all for you. To get your attention, to get you back. God, does he even know how that makes you feel?

“Fuck, fuck,” He whines, burying his face into the crook of your neck. Already feeling a little fatigued from abusing your pussy so fast. But it was just too good, he missed it so much. So, so much. And he made it evident, as he pushes the back of your thighs higher to your chest, getting deep as he can. And fucking you like his life counted on it.

You feel the familiar build up of your orgasm, your walls tightening as you grip Mingyu’s shoulders. “Gyu, Gyu, I’m —“ You manage to choke out, as he moves his face from your neck to yours. Catching your cry with his mouth, drowning it as he kisses you messily.

You shudder, squirming under him as you feel the familiar high. Your body tingling with sensitivity and pleasure, as he overwhelms you with what can only be love.

He follows soon after, not being able to maintain his mouth to yours as he lets out a shaky grunt. Spilling inside you, his cum warm and filling, making your cheeks flush in contentment and relief.

He slows, stilling as you both catch your breaths. Pulling out of you with a reluctance. Pushing himself up, to lean back to sit. You follow as well, adjusting your skirt back as you push yourself up to your elbows.

Mingyu was a sight, as he always is. His tan skin glowing with a layer of sweat. The way his toned chest rises from catching his breath. The way his bangs are sticking to his forehead, his cheeks flushed with a rush of blood. A satisfied look on his face, as he sighs, licking his bottom lip as he looks at you.

You can’t help but smile, a warm one. As you gather yourself.

“Lets get you cleaned up before the second half. Where did you throw your robe?”

“Oh fuck. I don’t know. You got any other ones?”

[cherryxbooo]

Helloooo hehe 🍒

Could you write a pedri fic where perdito and reader are both in college but he’s the popular kind and reader is quiet and almost invisible.

How at first she doesn’t wanna get involved but slowly warms up to him and start dating and her getting welcomed by his family.

Make it angst to fluff like real angst tho.

Whether you write this or not im grateful 💚

You make sense to me

Summary: Being introverted and choosing the background over the spotlight is already hard enough, let alone when the popular guy suddenly takes an interest in you.

Note: Thank you so much for your request! I decided to switch it up a bit and go from fluff to angst and obviously ending in fluff. Hope you like it! 🫶

Reader x Pedri

Genre: fluff/angst

University is a strange place.

It’s a world where people reinvent themselves, the loud get louder, and the quiet, like me, learn to live in the spaces between.

That’s how I’ve survived my first year at university, blending into the background.

I’m not a recluse, but I keep to myself.

I study, I go to class, I read in the corner of the library, and I go home.

No unnecessary interactions. No unnecessary attention.

That is, until he noticed me.

Pedri.

Everyone in our uni knows who he is. He’s that guy, the one with effortless charm, always surrounded by people.

Popular, not just because he’s good at football, but because he’s him. He moves through life with a kind of ease I can’t even imagine.

And yet, for some reason, he keeps looking at me.

I don’t get it. I don’t know what he sees.

At first, I ignore it. I convince myself I’m imagining things. But then, it happens again.

And again.

Until one day, he does more than just look.

It started off small.

"Hey," a voice says, casual but confident.

My highlighter sits on the page.

A thick streak of neon yellow bleeds over a sentence I was trying to mark, but my brain suddenly forgets how to function because someone is talking to me.

Slowly, very slowly, I turn my head.

He’s already sitting beside me, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

A dark hoodie, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, a grin that’s just a little too amused.

His presence feels loud, even though he’s not making any actual noise.

My first instinct? Escape.

My second? Stare.

I do both in rapid succession, my eyes flicking toward the exit, then warily back at him, as if assessing how much of a threat he poses.

He doesn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he does, and just doesn’t care.

"...Hi?" I say, but it comes out more like a question than a greeting.

His grin widens, like this is completely normal.

Like we talk all the time.

“You’re in my psychology class, right?”

I blink at him. That’s what this is about?

I nod once, not trusting my voice, because I don’t know why he’s here, or what he wants, and I hate not knowing things.

He leans back in his chair, completely at ease.

His dark eyes scan the open book in front of me, then flick back up to my face.

“You’re quiet.”

I exhale slowly through my nose. No shit.

I don’t reply.

I just wait. People like him, people who talk first and think later, usually get bored when they don’t get the response they want.

Any second now, he’ll lose interest. Any second now—

"Like, really quiet," he continues, undeterred.

His chin rests on his palm, elbow propped on the table, as if he’s studying me.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say a full sentence.”

I resist the urge to sigh. Or groan. Or bang my head against the table.

Instead, I press my lips together and attempt to salvage my poor, over-highlighted page.

"Maybe because I don’t have anything to say."

He chuckles, low and warm, like I’ve just told some inside joke we both share.

Except we don’t.

“I don’t buy that,” he says.

I glance at him again, this time with actual irritation.

"Why do you care?"

His shoulders lift in an easy shrug, like he hasn’t even considered the question before.

“I don’t know. You’re interesting.”

I actually laugh. A small, startled sound that slips out before I can stop it.

Not because he’s right, but because that has to be the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard.

"I’m not interesting," I say, shaking my head.

"You just don’t know me well enough to be bored yet."

His smirk deepens. "See? That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile."

I roll my eyes and refocus on my book.

"Congratulations. You’ve unlocked a new achievement."

He leans forward slightly, like I’ve just confirmed something for him. "So you can be sarcastic. Good to know."

I bite back another sigh. He’s not leaving. He’s settling in.

For a moment, I consider my options.

I could:

A) Ignore him until he gets the hint. B) Pack up my stuff and relocate to another part of the library. C) Say something so cold and blunt that he’ll regret ever sitting here.

I’m still debating when he speaks again.

"You always sit here," he muses.

I glance at him. "What?"

"In the library. Right here. This exact table." He tilts his head, thinking.

"You come in, you pull out your books, you highlight the hell out of your pages, and you don’t talk to anyone."

I stare at him, my pulse kicking up a notch.

"Have you been watching me?"

He shrugs, completely unapologetic. "More like... noticing."

"That’s the same thing."

"Not really," he counters, that lazy smirk still in place.

"Watching is weird. Noticing is just, paying attention."

I frown, my grip tightening on my highlighter.

"Why are you paying attention to me?"

He tilts his head, considering. "I don’t know. Maybe I like mysteries."

I scoff. "I’m not a mystery."

"Debatable."

I shake my head and focus very intently on my book.

But the problem is, I can still feel him there, his gaze lingering, his presence impossible to ignore.

And for the first time in forever, I feel seen.

I hate it.

Pedri doesn’t leave me alone after that.

At first, I tell myself it’s a coincidence.

A fluke.

That first conversation in the library? A one-time thing.

A moment of fleeting curiosity on his part.

But then it happens again. And again. And again.

It starts small.

A casual wave when he spots me across campus.

At first, I ignore it, assuming he’s greeting someone behind me.

But when I glance over my shoulder and see no one there, I realize, he’s waving at me.

I don’t wave back.

But that doesn’t stop him.

The next time, he adds a grin to it. The time after that, he calls my name, loud enough that people turn to look.

(Which, obviously, mortifies me.)

Then, there’s class.

He used to sit on the other side of the room.

I know this because I used to specifically sit where I wouldn’t have to be around too many people.

But one day, Pedri is suddenly there, dropping into the seat next to me like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Like he’s always been there.

I glance at him, suspicious. He just shrugs, pulling out his notebook.

"Better view from here."

I don’t buy that for a second, but I also don’t argue.

And then there are the conversations.

Or, more accurately, the ones he forces me into.

"So, what’s your verdict on our professor? Secretly a vampire, or just really hates sunlight?"

"If you had to survive on only one food for the rest of your life, what would it be? And if you say something boring like ‘salad,’ I might actually cry."

"I bet you secretly have a list of people you’d commit crimes for. I respect it."

Some days, I ignore him completely.

Other days, his persistence wears me down, and I give in with a sigh.

"Pasta," I mumble one afternoon.

He blinks. "Huh?"

"If I had to survive on one food. Pasta."

His entire face lights up like I’ve just gifted him something.

"Yes! Solid answer. Now, important follow-up question: are we talking plain pasta, or are you a sauce person?"

I sigh again, but this time, it’s less annoying. Maybe even a little amused.

Just a little.

And that’s how it starts.

I don’t even realize it’s happening at first.

How, little by little, I stop avoiding him.

How my replies stretch from one-word answers to full sentences.

How my body relaxes when he shows up, instead of tensing like I used to.

How I catch myself looking for him in class before he even arrives.

I try to convince myself that it means nothing.

That it’s just habit. That he’s just there, and I’ve gotten used to it.

But habits don’t make my heart skip when I see him across the quad.

Habits don’t make me bite back a smile when he says something stupid.

Habits don’t make my chest ache in ways I don’t know how to handle.

And somehow—without me fully understanding how or when or why, we become friends.

Or something dangerously close to it.

And it terrifies me.

Because Pedri is warmth, and I am used to distance.

Because he is effortless, and I have spent my whole life trying to be untouchable.

Because the more time I spend with him, the more I feel.

And feelings?

Feelings are dangerous.

Then it started with an invitation,

A casual one. Like it’s no big deal.

"Hey, wanna grab lunch with me?"

I glance up from my book, blinking at Pedri like he just asked me to rob a bank with him.

"What?"

"Lunch," he repeats, standing beside my table with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie.

"You know, that thing people eat in the middle of the day?"

I roll my eyes. "I know what lunch is."

"Great. Then let’s go." He gestures toward the door like this is already decided.

I hesitate. "Why?"

"Because we both have to eat, and food is better with company," he says simply.

"And don’t say you weren’t planning to eat, because that would be tragic."

I chew on my bottom lip, searching for an excuse, any excuse, but nothing comes to mind.

Pedri doesn’t give me time to think too hard about it.

He reaches for my bag, lifting it from the table before I can protest.

"Come on," he says, grinning. "I promise not to bite."

I sigh, knowing I’ve already lost.

"Fine," I mumble. "But if this place is loud and crowded, I’m leaving."

He smirks. "Noted."

The restaurant he takes me to is small and tucked away, a quiet little place that somehow doesn��t feel overwhelming.

It’s warm inside, the air rich with the scent of fresh bread and spices.

There’s soft music playing in the background, and to my relief, no overwhelming crowd.

"See?" Pedri says as we step in. "Not too bad, right?"

I nod slowly. "It’s... nice."

He grins, clearly pleased with himself. "Told you I’d pick a good place."

We find a booth by the window, and for the first time, I feel oddly at ease.

We order our food, and somehow, Pedri keeps me engaged in conversation the entire time.

It’s easy. Effortless.

He talks about everything, his classes, his teammates, a hilarious story about how he once fell asleep in the middle of a Zoom lecture and got called out for it.

I laugh before I can stop myself.

He looks ridiculously proud of this accomplishment.

"You like my suffering," he accuses, eyes gleaming.

"I’m just impressed by your ability to sleep through an entire class," I tease.

Pedri gasps dramatically. "So she can joke. This is a breakthrough moment."

I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling.

We eat slowly, the conversation flowing without effort.

And it’s nice. Too nice.

Because for the first time in a long time, I feel something dangerously close to happy.

After lunch, Pedri suggests a walk.

I should say no. I should go back to my dorm, back to my safe space.

But instead, I find myself walking beside him, our steps slow and unhurried.

The campus is quieter now, the afternoon sun casting a golden hue over the trees. It feels peaceful.

We eventually find an empty bench near the park and sit down.

I exhale, tilting my head back slightly to feel the breeze on my skin.

Pedri watches me for a moment before speaking.

"You don’t let a lot of people in, do you?"

I glance at him. "That obvious?"

He shrugs. "I just notice things."

A beat of silence. Then—

"Why?" he asks softly.

I chew on the inside of my cheek. I don’t usually talk about this. I don’t talk about myself at all.

But with Pedri, it feels... safe.

"I like peace," I admit finally. "I like being quiet. Being unnoticed. It’s easier."

Pedri stays silent, waiting. Letting me talk.

I take a breath.

"People... they take up space. They expect things. They need things. And I—" I pause, searching for the right words.

"I don’t know how to be what people need. So I just don’t try. So I won't end up getting hurt."

Pedri listens carefully, nodding like he understands.

I look down at my hands.

"I spent so long blending into the background that I guess I forgot how to be anything else."

Pedri exhales softly. When he speaks, his voice is gentle.

"I get that," he says.

I glance at him, surprised.

He leans back against the bench, gazing up at the sky.

"You know, people always assume I like attention just because I’m popular. Because I’m always around people, always talking."

I nod slightly. He’s right. I did assume that.

"But the truth is," he continues, "I don’t care about any of that."

I frown. "Then why—"

"Why you?" He turns his head to look at me. "Why did I notice you?"

I swallow, my throat suddenly dry.

Pedri smiles, but it’s softer this time. "Because you’re real."

I blink. "What?"

"Everyone else is so... loud," he says.

"Always trying to be something, trying to impress, trying to fit into whatever image they think they need to be."

He shifts slightly, his knee brushing against mine.

"But you? You’re just you," he murmurs. "And that’s rare."

My heart does something weird in my chest. I don’t like it.

Pedri studies my face for a moment, then sighs.

"Look, I know you like being on your own. I know you don’t trust people easily. And I get that. But..." He hesitates, then turns fully toward me.

"Give me a chance," he says.

I inhale sharply. "Pedri—"

"Just a chance," he insists.

"Let me prove to you that I’m not like everyone else. That I don’t just want something from you."

I bite my lip, staring at the ground.

"You scare me," I whisper.

He blinks. "Me?"

I nod. "Not in a bad way. Just... you make me feel things. And I don’t know how to handle that."

Pedri’s gaze softens, and he reaches out, hesitating for a second before lightly brushing his fingers against mine.

"You don’t have to handle it alone," he says gently.

"Let me in. Just a little."

I look at our hands, barely touching, then back at him.

His expression is so open, so earnest, that something in me cracks just a little.

Maybe just a little wouldn’t be so bad.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

I take a deep breath. Then, slowly, hesitantly, I nod.

Pedri smiles, squeezing my fingers lightly before pulling away, giving me space.

And for the first time, it doesn’t feel terrifying.

It happens gradually.

One moment, he’s just there, the way he always is, persistent, warm, impossible to ignore.

The next, he’s everywhere.

And suddenly, Pedri is mine.

Which is strange...

If you would've told me I would end up with the most popular guy of my uni, I would've straight up laughed in your face.

But, here we're... I guess.

It’s funny how quickly I get used to him.

To his presence, his warmth, the way he seamlessly fits into my life like he’s always been there.

And maybe it should scare me.

Maybe I should keep my distance, hold onto the walls I spent so long building.

But with Pedri, distance feels... impossible.

Because he refuses to be anything less than close.

It doesn’t take long for people to notice.

Because Pedri isn’t subtle. At all.

If anything, he seems to take genuine delight in shocking people.

Like the time we’re walking across campus, and he suddenly grabs my hand, intertwining our fingers like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

I freeze.

"Pedri—" I start, eyes darting around, but he just squeezes my hand.

"Relax," he murmurs, glancing down at me with a small smile.

"It’s just me."

I exhale slowly. It’s just him.

I tell myself to pull away, but I don’t.

And then I really regret it when I hear a group of students whispering nearby.

"Wait—are they holding hands?"

"No way. Pedri and y/n?"

"How did that even happen?"

I feel my entire face heat up, but Pedri? He doesn’t care at all.

If anything, he likes it.

Because the next day, when we’re sitting together in class, he casually reaches over and plays with my fingers under the desk.

Like it’s a habit.

Like he just wants to touch me.

"Pedri," I hiss quietly, trying to pull my hand away.

He smirks but tightens his grip. "You’re cute when you’re flustered."

I glare at him. "You’re annoying."

"And yet," he hums, "you still let me hold your hand."

Damn it.

Outside of school, it’s even worse.

Because Pedri doesn’t just want to see me in class, he wants to see me all the time.

"Are you free later?" he asks one afternoon.

I glance up from my notes. "Why?"

"Because I wanna see you," he says easily.

I blink. "You see me every day."

He grins. "Yeah, and?"

I sigh but don’t argue. Because, honestly?

I want to see him too.

Some nights, he comes over with zero warning.

Like when I’m sitting on my bed, fully prepared to spend my evening reading, and suddenly—

Knock, knock.

I groan, already knowing who it is.

When I open the door, Pedri is standing there with two cups of hot chocolate and a ridiculously pleased expression.

"You didn’t text me," I say, raising an eyebrow.

"Didn’t think I needed to," he says, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

I sigh. "What if I was busy?"

He flops onto my bed, looking completely at home. "Then I’d just sit here and wait for you to be un-busy."

I shake my head, but my lips twitch. I hate how much I like this.

One day, we’re supposed to grab lunch, but it starts pouring out of nowhere.

Pedri and I sprint across campus, completely drenched by the time we duck into the nearest café.

I groan, wringing out my hoodie. "Well, this sucks."

Pedri grins, shaking water from his hair like a golden retriever.

"Nah. I kinda like it."

"You like being soaked?" I deadpan.

"No," he chuckles. "I like that it means I get to stay here with you longer."

And damn it, he means it.

I shake my head, trying to ignore the way my heart clenches.

We sit by the window, watching the rain while sharing a plate of fries.

Pedri drapes his hoodie over my shoulders because I’m still shivering, and when I glance at him, he just shrugs.

"What’s mine is yours, princesa."

I roll my eyes, but the warmth in my chest doesn’t go away.

One night, we’re lying on my bed, facing each other in the soft glow of my bedside lamp.

It’s quiet, comfortable.

Pedri reaches out, tracing lazy patterns on my wrist.

"You ever think about what would’ve happened if I never sat next to you that day?" he murmurs.

I blink. "What?"

"In the library," he says. "If I never sat down. If I never talked to you or approached you. What do you think would’ve happened?"

I think about it for a second. "I guess... nothing."

Pedri frowns slightly.

"You wouldn’t have noticed me," I explain. "And I would’ve kept living my life the way I always have."

His grip on my wrist tightens slightly. "That’s a terrible answer."

I laugh softly. "It’s the truth."

"Well, I hate it," he says.

I tilt my head. "Why?"

Pedri exhales.

"Because I can’t imagine my life without you now," he murmurs. "And I don’t want to."

My breath catches.

He’s staring at me with so much emotion, like I’m the most important thing in his universe.

"I meant what I said," he continues softly.

"I don’t care that you’re quiet. I don’t care that you like being in the background. I don’t care that people think we don’t make sense."

His fingers brush against my cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

"You make sense to me," he whispers.

I don’t know what to say.

Pedri smiles slightly like he can hear all the things I’m too scared to say.

"You don’t have to say anything," he murmurs.

"Just, promise me you won’t push me away."

I swallow. "Pedri..."

"Please," he breathes. "Just let me love you."

My chest tightens, the weight of his words settling deep inside me.

But instead of answering, I reach for him, fingers threading through his hair as I pull him closer.

His lips meet mine, slow, soft, certain, and in that moment, I know.

I know that Pedri is different.

I know that I’ve already fallen for him.

And for the first time in a long time,

I don’t want to run.

It’s a normal day at school.

Or at least, it should be.

Except nothing is ever normal when you’re dating Pedri.

We’re sitting outside on one of the campus benches, a rare moment of peace in between classes.

I’m trying to eat my lunch, but Pedri, ever the distraction, is making that very difficult.

"You’re not even paying attention to me," he pouts, resting his chin on my shoulder.

"Because I’m eating," I say, taking another bite of my sandwich.

"But I’m right here."

"And?"

"And I require attention."

I roll my eyes, but I can’t hide my smile.

Pedri grins, clearly pleased with himself.

He reaches up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, then lets his fingers trail down my arm before entwining our hands together.

"Better," he hums, like this was the missing piece of his day.

I shake my head but squeeze his hand anyway.

For a moment, it’s quiet, and comfortable, like it always is with him.

And then he drops a bombshell.

"So, I was thinking... you should come to my parents’ house this weekend."

I nearly choke on my drink. "Wait—what?"

"To my parents’ house," he repeats easily as if he’s asking me to grab a coffee, not meet his entire family.

"For dinner. Just something casual."

Casual?

Meeting his parents is casual?!

My brain short-circuits.

"Pedri, I—" I pause, exhaling. "That’s... a big step."

He tilts his head, studying me. "Is it?"

"Yes," I say, nodding vigorously.

"I mean, it’s your family. What if they don’t like me?"

Pedri immediately frowns, turning his entire body towards me.

"First of all, there’s literally no way they won’t like you."

I bite my lip, looking down at my hands. "You don’t know that."

"Yes, I do," he says firmly.

"You’re smart, and kind, and funny, and—" He pauses, squeezing my hand.

"And you make me happy. That’s all they need to know."

I feel my heart clench.

Damn him. Damn him and his words that make me weak.

I hesitate for a few more seconds before exhaling. "Okay... I’ll go."

His face lights up, and suddenly, I know I made the right choice.

"Good," he says smugly.

"Because if you said no, I was gonna beg."

I snort. "I would’ve made you suffer a little first."

"That’s mean."

"That’s justice."

Pedri grins, tugging me closer. "I knew I liked you for a reason."

That weekend, I stood in front of my mirror, stressing out.

What do you wear to meet your boyfriend’s parents?

I don’t want to be too formal and look like I’m trying too hard, but I also don’t want to look like I just threw on the first thing I found.

After way too much debating, I settle on something simple yet cute, just enough effort to look put-together.

And right on cue, my phone buzzes.

Pedri: I’m outside <3

I grab my bag, take a deep breath, and head out.

As soon as I open the door, I see him leaning against his car, arms crossed, a lazy grin spreading across his face the moment he sees me.

"Wow," he whistles, giving me an obvious once-over.

I shift on my feet, suddenly self-conscious. "What?"

"You look—" He pauses, stepping closer. "Beautiful."

My face heats up. "Shut up."

"I’m serious," he murmurs, eyes shining.

"My mom’s gonna love you even more now."

I roll my eyes but smile as he opens the car door for me.

As we drive, I feel the nerves creeping in again.

My hands rest stiffly on my lap, and I stare out the window, chewing on my lip.

Pedri notices immediately.

Without a word, he reaches over and takes my hand, intertwining our fingers.

"Breathe, princesa," he murmurs.

I exhale shakily. "I just don’t want to mess this up."

"You won’t."

"How do you know?"

Pedri lifts our joined hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to my knuckles.

"Because you’re you," he says simply.

And just like that, some of the nerves fade.

As soon as we arrive, Pedri barely has time to knock before the door swings open, revealing his mother.

"Hola, cariño!" she exclaims, pulling Pedri into a tight hug, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

He laughs, hugging her back. "Hola, mamá."

Then, her eyes land on me.

And suddenly, I forget how to breathe.

"And this must be y/n, the girl I’ve heard so much about," she says warmly, her gaze kind and curious.

I hesitate for a moment before stepping forward, offering a polite smile. "Hi, it’s really nice to meet you."

To my surprise, her face softens even more before she pulls me into a gentle hug.

"Oh, you’re adorable," she murmurs before pulling away.

"Come in, come in."

As we step inside, I glance at Pedri, who is smirking at me like he knew this would happen.

He leans down, whispering, "Told you she’d love you."

I glare at him, nudging him with my elbow, but the warmth in my chest doesn’t fade.

The house is warm and inviting, decorated with framed pictures of Pedri and his family.

Some are from his childhood, others more recent, like his love for football evident in every corner.

I take a moment to glance at one of the shelves, where several of his trophies and awards sit proudly.

"You’re staring, princesa," Pedri teases, nudging my shoulder.

"It’s just weird seeing your entire life displayed like this," I murmur.

Before he can reply, a deep voice cuts through the room.

"So this is the famous girl?"

I turn to see Fernando, Pedri’s older brother, leaning against the doorway with an amused expression.

"The one and only," Pedri says smugly, throwing an arm around my shoulders.

I shoot him a look but manage a polite smile. "It’s nice to meet you."

Fernando nods, eyeing Pedri. "Well, I have to say, I’m impressed. I thought you were just making her up."

I snort, while Pedri glares. "I hate you."

"Love you too, hermano."

His mother shakes her head, laughing. "Boys, enough. Let’s eat."

Dinner is incredible, and not just the food (which is honestly some of the best I’ve ever had).

Pedri’s mom made a full spread, and every bite tastes like it was cooked with love.

"This is amazing," I say, genuinely in awe.

His mom beams. "Thank you, cariño. Eat as much as you want."

"Careful," Fernando jokes. "She’ll try to adopt you if you say that too many times."

Pedri smirks. "Too late. She’s already mine."

I nearly choke on my drink.

His mother laughs while Fernando groans.

"God, you’re embarrassing."

Pedri shrugs, completely unfazed, squeezing my knee under the table.

Throughout the meal, his parents ask me questions, not in an overwhelming way, but enough to show that they’re genuinely interested in getting to know me.

His dad is quieter but still warm, occasionally chiming in with a question or a story about Pedri as a kid.

"Did he tell you he used to cry when he lost board games?" his dad asks, smirking.

I light up. "No, but I love that."

Pedri groans, slumping in his chair. "Why are we exposing me?"

"Because it’s fun," Fernando says, grinning.

I giggle, and Pedri shoots me a betrayed look.

"You’re supposed to be on my side," he mutters.

"I am," I say sweetly. "Just... not right now."

After dinner, I insist on helping with the dishes.

"Oh, no, cariño, you’re a guest," his mother says, waving me off.

"Please," I say, offering a small smile. "I want to help."

She eyes me for a moment before nodding. "Alright. But only because you asked so nicely."

As we stand by the sink, washing plates, she suddenly speaks up.

"You know," she starts, her tone thoughtful, "I wasn’t a fan of the other girls Pedri has dated."

I blink, glancing at her. "Oh?"

She nods, rinsing a dish.

"They only wanted him for his name and popularity. But you... you seem different."

I swallow. "I just like him for who he is."

She smiles softly. "I know. And that’s why I like you."

Something warm blooms in my chest.

"You’re good for him," she continues.

"He’s always been surrounded by people who want something from him. But with you? I see the way he looks at you, the way he talks about you."

She pauses, drying her hands before turning to face me.

"I can tell you care about him."

I nod, my throat feeling tight. "I do. A lot."

She smiles, patting my hand. "Then that’s all I need to know."

As we drive back, Pedri is grinning like an idiot.

"That went amazing," he says, eyes flickering to me.

"It did," I admit.

"See? You worried for nothing."

I sigh. "Yeah, yeah. You were right."

He gasps dramatically. "Wait, say that again?"

"I will never repeat it."

He laughs, reaching over to squeeze my thigh. "I’m proud of you, princesa."

I glance at him. "Why?"

"Because I know this wasn’t easy for you," he says softly.

"But you did it. And my mom loves you. My dad and Fernando too."

I bite my lip. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he murmurs. "But more importantly, I love you."

My heart stops.

Pedri, realizing what he just said, suddenly tenses.

"Wait—" His eyes widen. "I mean—"

I laugh softly. "It’s okay, Pedri."

He swallows. "I just... I love you, okay? And I don’t care if that scares you. I’m not going anywhere."

I look at him, really look at him, and feel something inside me settle.

I don’t answer right away. Instead, I reach over, lacing my fingers with his.

"Drive, Pedri," I whisper.

He exhales, squeezing my hand. "I’ll wait for you, princesa. However long it takes."

And as we head home, I realize—

I don’t think it’ll take very long at all.

It was another boring uni day. A day full of back-to-back classes.

I’m in the library, stacking my books neatly into my arms, already mentally preparing for my next class.

My mind is quiet, calm, focused on anything but him.

Pedri had texted me this morning, telling me he had early practice and would see me later.

"Have a good day, princesa ❤️ Miss you."

I had smiled when I read it.

I shouldn’t have.

I adjust my grip on the books and turn toward the exit. Then I hear it.

Laughter. Loud voices.

At first, I don’t think anything of it. Until I hear my name.

I stop. My heart stutters.

I tell myself it’s nothing, that maybe I misheard, that maybe it’s just some random conversation.

But then a voice cuts through the noise, A voice I know better than anyone else’s.

His voice.

Pedri.

My stomach twists, my fingers tightening around the books as I take a cautious step forward.

The voices are coming from the hallway just ahead, around the corner.

I shouldn’t listen. I shouldn’t. But I do.

"Bro, you’re actually still with her?" one of his friends cackles.

"I swear I thought this was just a bet or some shit."

Pedri laughs.

That’s the first stab.

"Nah, man. No bet."

"Then what the fuck is it?" someone else scoffs. "There’s no way you’re actually into her."

Pedri lets out a low chuckle. "Come on, man. You really think I’d go for a girl like that?"

A girl like that.

"Exactly," another voice chimes in.

"She’s fucking boring, bro. Always sitting in the back, never talking, just reading like she’s in some old-ass novel or something. You could have literally anyone, why waste time on her?"

"It’s not like that," Pedri says easily. "She’s just… convenient."

The air leaves my lungs.

"Convenient?" one of his friends laughs. "What, like a little charity case?"

Pedri doesn’t deny it.

He fucking laughs.

"Nah, it’s just easy, you know?" he shrugs.

"She doesn’t ask for much. Doesn’t complain. Doesn’t make a big deal out of shit. I don’t have to try too hard."

"So you’re with her because she’s easy?"

Pedri snickers.

"More like… low maintenance. She’s quiet, doesn’t bother me when I’m busy, doesn’t start drama. It’s just chill. I don’t have to worry about her blowing up my phone or expecting too much."

I feel sick.

"Damn, so you’re basically keeping her around for convenience?"

"I mean, yeah," Pedri mutters. "She’s just... there. It’s not that deep."

The laughter erupts around him.

I think I might throw up.

"Fucking knew it," one of them howls. "You had us thinking you were actually in love with her or some shit."

Pedri laughs harder.

"Come on, man. You really think I’d fall for her?"

My heart shatters.

I can’t listen anymore. I can’t.

The pain is too much, the walls around me caving in, my vision blurring with unshed tears.

I need to get out of here.

I don’t know how long I stand there.

Seconds? Minutes?

Everything is a blur.

Their laughter rings in my ears, mocking me, haunting me.

Tears burn at the back of my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall.

I won’t let them have that power over me. My body moves on its own. One step.

Then another.

Then I’m walking away.

I don’t care where I’m going.

I just need to get the hell out of there.

I don’t go to my next class. I don’t care about my next class. I walk. Fast.

Away from the library, away from the voices, away from the truth clawing at my chest.

I feel numb.

Like my heart has been ripped out of my chest and I’m just walking around with a hollow, empty space inside me.

My phone vibrates in my pocket.

I don’t check it. I don’t need to. It’s him. It has to be. I ignore it.

I ignore the ache in my chest, the sting behind my eyes, the lump in my throat that makes it hard to breathe.

I just keep walking.

By the time I finally return to my dorm, the sky is a deep shade of blue, the sun barely peeking over the horizon.

I close the door behind me, my body exhausted, drained.

And then there’s a knock. I hesitate, my pulse spiking.

I already know who it is.

I take a slow, shaky breath, gripping the door handle before pulling it open.

Pedri stands there.

His brows are furrowed, concern laced into every inch of his face.

"What the hell, Y/N?" he asks immediately. "Why haven’t you been answering me all day?"

I stare at him.

He looks so… confused. Like he has no idea what he did.

That makes me angrier.

"Go away, Pedri."

His eyes widen slightly. "What? No. What’s going on? Did something happen?"

I let out a harsh, bitter laugh. "Oh, I don’t know. Why don’t you ask your friends?"

He freezes. And I see it.

I see the exact moment realization hits.

His lips part slightly, but no words come out.

"Yeah," I say, voice shaking. "I heard you. I heard everything."

"Princesa—"

"Don’t." I take a step back. "Just don’t."

His jaw clenches. "I didn’t mean it."

I laugh again, but it hurts.

"Right," I nod. "Because saying I’m just some joke? Saying you’re pretending to like me? That just… accidentally came out of your mouth?"

"It’s not like that," he says quickly, stepping forward. "Please, Y/n. Just let me explain."

"Explain what?" I snap. "That I’m just some quiet, boring idiot who actually believed you cared about me?"

He flinches.

"That’s not true," he says, his voice softer now.

"It doesn’t matter," I whisper.

"It does."

"No, Pedri. It really doesn’t."

I exhale shakily, looking away for a moment before meeting his gaze one last time.

"I can’t do this anymore."

His breath catches. "What?"

"We’re done."

I step back, my hands shaking as I close the door in his face.

For a few seconds, I don’t move.

I don’t breathe.

And then I hear it—

A soft, desperate whisper from the other side of the door.

"Please don’t leave me."

Tears stream down my face.

But I don’t open the door.

And I don’t look back.

The days blur together, a mess of sleepless nights and suffocating thoughts.

I barely eat, barely leave my dorm, barely exist outside of my own mind.

Every time I close my eyes, I hear his voice.

Every time I let my thoughts wander, I remember the way his words sliced through me like a blade.

My phone buzzes constantly, but I ignore it.

At first, I let it ring, let the messages pile up, let his name flash across my screen like a cruel reminder of what happened.

But he doesn’t stop.

"Y/n, please." "At least talk to me." "I need to explain." "I miss you."

Every day, every hour, his messages come in, desperate and persistent.

And every time, I stare at them with tears burning in my eyes, fingers hovering over the screen before I lock my phone and shove it under my pillow.

Then, after a few days, I finally block him.

I expect that to be the end of it.

But Pedri doesn’t give up so easily.

It starts with soft knocks on my door, hesitant at first, then firmer when I don’t answer.+

I stay curled up in bed, biting my lip to keep from crying out in frustration.

Then, when I wake up one morning and open my door, I see flowers.

A bouquet of my favorite ones, left neatly against the doorframe.

The first time, I hesitate.

The second time, I stare at them for a long time before stepping over them.

The third time, I pick them up, hold them in my hands for a moment, and then drop them in the trash.

And yet, the next day, there’s another bouquet.

Every single day, without fail, there’s a new one waiting for me. And every time, I feel my resolve cracking a little bit more.

But I’m not ready.

I don’t even know if I ever will be.

One week later, I finally force myself to go back to school.

I can’t hide forever.

I tell myself I’ve had time to heal, that I’ve built up enough strength to walk these halls without feeling like I’m suffocating under the weight of my own emotions.

That I can handle seeing him again.

But the second I step onto campus, my chest tightens, and my heart pounds against my ribcage like it’s trying to escape.

I keep my head down, moving quickly, avoiding eye contact, avoiding him.

But I can feel it. His presence. His eyes.

I know he’s seen me. I don’t look.

I don’t want to see the desperation in his expression, don’t want to acknowledge the way my stomach twists painfully at the thought of him standing somewhere nearby, watching me, waiting.

I force myself through class, focus on my notes, pretend everything is normal even though nothing is normal anymore.

But later, as I leave my last lecture, I barely take two steps before I feel it—

A hand gently grabbing my wrist, pulling me back.

I freeze.

His touch is familiar, careful, like he’s afraid I’ll run.

"Y/n."

His voice is quiet, raw, holding a plea that makes my throat tighten.

I squeeze my eyes shut for a second before finally turning around, my expression carefully blank.

Pedri stands there, looking at me like I’m the most important thing in the world and he’s terrified he’s already lost me.

"Please," he says softly, his fingers still around my wrist. "Just let me explain."

I exhale slowly, trying to keep my voice steady. "There’s nothing to explain, Pedri."

"Yes, there is," he insists, stepping closer.

His hold on my wrist loosens, but he doesn’t let go completely, like he’s afraid that if he does, I’ll disappear.

"Just give me five minutes. That’s all I’m asking."

I hesitate, my mind screaming at me to walk away. But something in his eyes, something so painfully real, holds me in place.

I sigh, crossing my arms. "Fine. Five minutes."

He pulls me aside to a quieter part of campus, away from the crowd, away from prying eyes.

I stand stiffly, my arms still crossed, my body tense like I’m ready to run at any second.

"I never meant what I said," he starts immediately. "I swear to you, Y/n. I didn’t mean a single fucking word of it."

I let out a hollow laugh. "Right. You just happened to say all those things for fun? Just to impress your asshole friends?"

"No," he says quickly, shaking his head. "It wasn’t for fun. It was to protect you."

I blink. "Excuse me?"

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair.

"Those guys? They’re not my friends. They never were. But they have a way of making people’s lives hell. I knew that if I admitted how much I cared about you, they’d go after you. Mock you. Make your life miserable. I thought if I played it off, if I made it seem like I didn’t care, they’d lose interest and leave you alone. Trust me Y/n iy happened before and it had gotten really ugly. I didn't want that to happen to the person I love."

I stare at him, my heart pounding in my chest. "You really think that justifies what you said?"

"No," he admits, his voice softer. "It doesn’t. I was an idiot. I should’ve told you. I should’ve trusted you to understand. But I swear to you, Y/n, I would never actually think those things about you."

"Be a fucking man Pedri and instead of doing this shit stand up for the person you supposedly love. You're nothing but a pussy."

I swallow, my emotions warring inside me. I don’t know what to feel.

So I leave. Again.

Later that day,

It all happens too quickly.

One moment, I’m walking across campus, lost in my own thoughts, and the next, there’s chaos.

A crowd gathers around a scene near the student quad. Loud shouts and yells fill the air.

My heart skips a beat as I push through the mass of students, trying to catch a glimpse of what’s going on.

I’m not expecting to see what I do.

There’s Pedri.

His fists are flying, and the guy he’s fighting, the asshole, is holding his jaw, clearly stunned.

But Pedri doesn’t stop. He throws another punch, fury in his eyes. I see the red in his face, the anger, and it’s not just at the guy. It’s everything. The hurt. The frustration.

The last few weeks have been hell for both of us, but in this moment, it’s all coming out.

His fists are like his words, punching through everything that’s built up, everything that’s been left unsaid.

But I can’t watch it anymore. I’ve seen enough violence in my life to know when things are about to spiral.

“Pedri! Stop!” I shout, pushing through the crowd to grab his arm, pulling him back.

He jerks his head towards me, his expression wild, eyes wide with a mix of rage and confusion.

I hold onto his arm tightly, trying to calm him down.

I don’t know why I’m even doing this for him, but it’s like I’m drawn to him, like I can’t just walk away.

His chest rises and falls rapidly, but slowly, the fight drains out of him as he looks into my eyes.

His breath is ragged, and his hands are clenched into tight fists, knuckles covered in blood.

“Are you stupid?” I mutter, my hands trembling slightly as I grab his arm and pull him away from the scene.

The crowd disperses, some murmuring, others filming with their phones.

Pedri doesn't fight me.

He lets me drag him away, and somehow, I find myself leading him into the first-aid room, a small quiet space where the tension in my chest can finally loosen, even if just a little.

I shove him onto the chair and kneel down, rummaging through the first aid kit.

“Why do you do this?” I ask, my voice shaking. I try to stay calm, but my hands are shaking as I pull out the bandages.

I clean his bloody knuckles carefully, avoiding looking at him too much. I can’t let myself soften. Not yet.

He sighs deeply, his voice low, raw. “He was talking shit about you again. That guy, he just won’t leave you alone. I had to make it stop.”

My heart sinks, and I bite my lip hard. I don’t know how to feel. My stomach churns.

Why did he feel the need to fight again? Why did he let it get this far?

“But why do you keep doing this?” I whisper, my voice barely audible.

"I... I don’t understand, Pedri. You say you care, but you keep pushing me away in the worst ways possible."

Pedri doesn’t answer right away. He stares at me for a long moment, his brow furrowed as though he’s considering every word carefully.

I can see the guilt in his eyes, the regret, the desperation. He wants me to understand. He needs me to.

“I—” He hesitates, his voice cracking slightly.

“I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to make you feel like you were a joke. I thought... I thought I was protecting you, Y/n. From people who wouldn’t appreciate you the way I do. Those guys... They’ll never understand how much you mean to me. But they will hurt you if they think you matter to me."

I’m speechless, blinking at him. There’s a part of me that wants to scream, to tell him he’s full of shit, but the truth in his eyes catches me off guard.

He’s being real, and it’s so hard for me to reconcile that with the image of the guy I heard talking shit about me, degrading me, the guy I’ve been blocking out of my life for a week.

“You should’ve told me that before, Pedri.” I swallow hard.

My voice trembles with the weight of everything.

“Instead of... doing that. I don’t understand why you had to hurt me first.”

He doesn’t look away. He looks... guilty.

“I didn’t know how to explain. I didn’t want you to think I was using you as some kind of... shield or something. But I wasn’t. I swear, I wasn’t.”

His eyes soften as he gently reaches for my hand, his touch so careful now, like I might shatter at any second.

I pull away, feeling the heat of his gaze burn into me.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you yet, Pedri,” I whisper, my voice barely a breath.

“You hurt me too much. And... I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel anymore.”

He nods, his lips pressing together in frustration. “I’ll do anything to make it right. I don’t care what it takes.”

I turn away, my heart heavy, my thoughts too tangled to untangle.

It’s not so simple anymore. I don’t know if it ever will be.

I walk away, feeling like a piece of me is being pulled in two different directions.

The days that follow are both long and quiet. The silence between Pedri and me feels deafening, like an invisible wall built higher with every moment.

He’s not giving up on me, though. Not even close.

It’s hard for me to stay distant. Hard for me to ignore him.

But it feels like I have no other choice. Every time I open my phone, I see his name.

Every time I hear a knock on my dorm door, I know it’s him. But I don’t answer. I won’t.

Still, something is different now. I notice his absence more than I expect.

The void he left in my life isn’t easy to fill. His quiet persistence is eating at me, but I won’t let it show. Not yet.

Pedri, however, doesn’t stop. He doesn’t let up.

At first, it’s small gestures. One morning, I find a handwritten note slipped under my door.

Just his name at the bottom, a few simple words.

“I’m sorry. Please give me a chance to prove I’m worth it.”

It’s the first time I’ve seen him so vulnerable. He’s always been confident, cocky even.

But this? This is different. I can feel the weight of his apology in the paper, and I fold it carefully, slipping it into my pocket.

Then, the flowers start.

He leaves them outside my dorm door every evening, sometimes daisies, sometimes sunflowers, always with a small note attached that says the same thing, “I’m sorry. Let me make it right.”

I feel the pull to just let him back in, but I resist. I’m not ready. I’m still broken.

Days go by, and I finally decide to leave my dorm to go to class. I walk through campus, trying to focus on the routine, trying to shut out everything else.

But I can’t. Pedri’s presence is everywhere.

I see him talking to the guys he used to hang out with, but now he’s different. He’s distant. Not laughing. Not joking around.

I can see it in the way he avoids eye contact, the way he doesn’t engage with them anymore.

His posture is closed off, like he’s shutting something down. I don’t know what it means, but something stirs in me.

Maybe it’s guilt, maybe it’s hope.

That’s when I notice it, his transformation.

Pedri has made a point to distance himself from the very people who encouraged him to hurt me.

He doesn’t hang out with those friends anymore. The ones who always made fun of me, belittled me, and tried to convince him I wasn’t “good enough.”

The ones who laughed at my expense and pushed him to do the same.

He’s even going out of his way to take different routes on campus, avoiding his old crew altogether.

It’s subtle at first, but it doesn’t go unnoticed. He’s proving to me, in the smallest ways, that he’s changing.

That he’s fighting for something that matters more than his pride.

One day, I’m walking to class when I hear footsteps behind me. A familiar voice calls my name.

“Y/n.”

I don’t turn around, pretending like I didn’t hear him.

He’s been trying to talk to me for days, but every time I shut him down. It’s easier that way.

It’s safer.

But then, he’s right beside me, his presence undeniable.

“Please, just let me explain,” Pedri says, his voice low. There’s a softness in it now, no trace of arrogance. Just sincerity.

I finally stop, reluctantly meeting his eyes. He’s standing there, his expression full of regret, but something else, too, determination.

“I’m listening,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

“I... I’ve been thinking about everything,” he starts, hesitating, as if searching for the right words.

“I was an idiot, Y/n. I should’ve never listened to them, and I should’ve never pushed you away like I did. I wasn’t protecting you. I was just being selfish. And I never should’ve treated you like you were second best. I was wrong. I’m so sorry.”

His words hit me hard, and I want to yell at him. To tell him that his apology doesn’t fix anything.

But the truth is, he’s right. He was selfish. And I was hurt.

But there’s something about him, something in the way he’s looking at me now, that makes me wonder if he really means it.

“I don’t know, Pedri,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.

“You say you’re sorry, but it doesn’t undo everything. It doesn’t fix what you said or what you did.”

“I know,” he replies quickly.

“And I’m not asking for you to forgive me right away. I’m asking for a chance to show you that I can do better. That I can be the person you deserve. But I need you to trust me. I need you to let me prove it.”

For a moment, we stand there in silence, my mind racing with all the things I’m still unsure about.

But then I notice it, the genuine effort in his eyes, the sincerity in his voice. He’s not just saying the right things.

He’s living it.

“I’ll prove it to you every day,” he says, his voice firm.

“I’ve already cut ties with the guys who put you down. I don’t need people like that in my life. They can think whatever they want, but you? You matter. You always have. I’ll prove that to you, Y/n. I swear.”

I swallow hard, his words breaking through my walls. I want to stay angry.

I want to stay hurt. But everything in me is telling me that maybe, just maybe, he’s worth another chance.

“I don’t know if I can trust you yet,” I whisper.

“But... I’ll try. Slowly.”

Pedri’s eyes light up, and for the first time in weeks, I see a glimpse of the boy I used to know.

“That’s all I need. Just a chance.”

From that day on, I watch him like a hawk.

Pedri is relentless. He’s not just sending flowers or leaving notes anymore, he’s putting in real effort.

He spends his free time sitting with me in the library, helping me with schoolwork, never pushing for anything more.

Every time I see him talking to his old friends, he’s distant, his back turned, never engaging with the people who once made him feel like he was better than me.

He’s proving to me, with every small action, that he’s serious.

One day, as we sit in the park near campus, he looks at me quietly, his fingers tracing the rim of his coffee cup.

“I know it’s not enough,” he says softly,

“but I hope one day you’ll look at me and see someone who actually cares. Someone who will fight for you, no matter what.”

I look at him then, really look at him, and for the first time in a long while, I believe it.

He’s not perfect. He might have messed up. But he’s doing everything he can to make it right.

“Okay,” I whisper, my heart beating faster. “I’ll let you try.”

And maybe, just maybe, that’s enough for now.

A few months later,

the tension between Pedri and me starts to ease. He’s patient, more so than I’ve ever seen him.

And with every day that passes, he seems to be putting more and more effort into proving that he’s not just saying the words.

He’s showing it.

But there’s something else. Something I can’t quite put my finger on.

Pedri hasn’t stopped trying to make things right, and it’s clear he’s not giving up on us.

It’s not just the grand gestures anymore, but the small, thoughtful ones, like leaving me my favorite coffee in the library, or texting me random jokes in the middle of the day to make me smile. (bare minimum fr)

And when I finally start to look at him again, I can see it. There’s real change in him.

And so, when he asks if I’ll go out with him on a date, I don’t say no.

But I don’t expect what happens next.

It’s a Saturday evening, and Pedri messages me earlier in the day, asking me to meet him at 6 PM sharp.

When I arrive at the spot he texted me, the park near campus, I’m greeted with something that takes my breath away.

There, in front of me, is a blanket spread out on the grass. The soft glow of fairy lights surrounds the area, strung between trees, creating a romantic little nook in the middle of the park.

On the blanket, there’s a picnic basket, candles, and even my favorite flowers, lilies, pink and white, arranged in a vase.

It’s not what I expected from him. At all.

Pedri stands beside it all, hands in his pockets, looking nervous as hell.

His eyes light up when he sees me, and for the first time in ages, I see a boy who’s trying harder than anyone ever has to make me feel special.

“Y/n,” he says, his voice shaky but hopeful.

“I know I’ve messed up. But I wanted to show you... that I’m serious about this. About us.”

I stand there for a moment, blinking at the effort he’s put into this.

The last time we were together like this, things were so different.

It feels like we’ve both come a long way.

“Are you serious?” I ask, a smile tugging at the corner of my lips.

“I’ve never seen you do anything like this before.”

“I know,” he says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“But you deserve something better than what I gave you. You deserve to feel appreciated. And not just with words, but with actions. I know this isn’t enough, but... I hope it’s a start.”

I can’t help but smile, my heart beating a little faster as I walk over to him.

“I think it’s a perfect start, Pedri.”

He grins, relief flooding his features.

“I’m glad. I thought I might’ve messed it up with the flowers and all that.”

“Honestly? It’s the most effort anyone’s ever put into a date for me,”

I admit, my voice soft, but sincere.

Pedri chuckles, and his eyes soften.

“Well, then I guess I’m doing something right.”

We sit down on the blanket, and the evening goes from awkward to comfortable, and then, as the conversation flows, it becomes something even more.

We talk about everything, the past, the mistakes, the ways we’ve grown.

We laugh about stupid stuff, and he even admits to being terrible at making dinner (something I’d suspected from the start, but now it’s confirmed).

He makes a joke about how he can barely toast bread without burning it, and I can’t help but laugh.

“I’ll cook for you sometime,” he says with a playful grin. “And you can judge my terrible cooking skills.”

“Sounds like a challenge,” I tease, nudging him with my elbow. “But sure. I’ll take you up on that.”

We settle into a comfortable silence for a while, just listening to the sound of the wind rustling through the trees.

It feels... nice. Simple. And yet, it’s everything I’ve been wanting. I can feel the trust building again, piece by piece.

“Y/n,” he says quietly after a long pause, turning to face me.

“I know I messed up. But I need you to know that I would do anything to make things right. I’ll spend every day proving to you that you’re the one I want, the one I need.”

I look into his eyes, eyes full of sincerity, full of hope, and for the first time in a long while, I believe him.

“Okay,” I whisper, my heart thudding in my chest. “I’ll give you that chance.”

Pedri’s eyes widen, and a grin spreads across his face so fast it takes me by surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah,” I say with a playful smile. “But only if you promise to keep the flowers coming.”

He laughs, his face lighting up like I’ve just given him the biggest gift in the world.

“Done. I’ll keep the flowers and the dates coming. Just don’t leave me again, okay?”

I laugh softly, nudging him again. “You’re lucky you’re so cute.”

“And you’re lucky I’m good at dates,” he grins, leaning in close, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper.

“Otherwise, I’d be in serious trouble.”

“Oh, you’re already in serious trouble,” I tease back, rolling my eyes.

“But I guess I’ll give you another chance. For now.”

Pedri leans back, throwing his arms around me in a mock dramatic fashion.

“I’ll make the most of it, I promise! I’ll win you over... one bad joke at a time.”

I can’t help but laugh as I rest my head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body next to mine.

It’s easy now. It’s natural.

“I’ll hold you to that, Pedri,” I say softly, closing my eyes for a moment.

And for the first time in months, everything feels right again.

The end

[purerae]

ahhhhh! I’m so glad that you are back. I love your writing and please don’t feel any pressure and take it easy🥹 i had a random thought about what if Kieran found out that reader was cheating? I think it would be so interesting!

tysm omg ^_^ im so happy to be back ily all so so much!!

warnings ;; toxic behaviour on both ends, manipulation, kidnapping, infidelity, delusional behaviour (who would’ve guessed!)

yandere!playboy - Kieran.

he’d go insane. I think this is an instance where he’d straight up kidnap you. He finally got you to be his and you just go and fucking cheat on him? Yeah no, that’s not how it works. Obviously the person who you slept with is a goner. No semblance of them would be anywhere and their life, emotionally and physically would be obliterated in Kieran’s hands.

Kieran is quite toxic, so I don’t think he’d ever tell you that he knows you cheated on him. He’ll just kidnap you randomly one day (maybe a day or even a week after he found out) and lock you in a room— making you wonder what happened? ‘Why did he suddenly imprison you?? Everything was going so well, he was literally joking with you a few hours ago!’

For the first couple of days, he wouldn’t even look at you. He’d become a shell of a man, the cheekiness and playfulness gone, dead eyes stare at you as he gives you a plate of food. Swiftly leaving and locking the door shut, even after you beg and scream, pleading to tell you why he’s doing all this; that you love him! Why is he hurting you?!— the rooms walls answers your questions.

He’d see it as a form of punishment to you and to him, to see you so broken would hurt him but he’d also want to make you feel betrayed like how he felt when you cheated on him.

But after like a week or so, he’d switch up— displaying his charismatic flirty personality once again, staying for hours and hours in the room as he yaps about the most random things; cuddling you tightly as you struggle from his embrace. He’d whisper sweet nothings in your ear, acting like you guys are a normal happy couple; ignoring your pleas, your infidelity and the fact that he locked you up in his fucking room.

He’d genuinely just start believing that everything’s fine, everything’s okay— you still love him, you still need him. The person who you got with just manipulated your poor brain :( It’s okay, princess! He’s here to protect you <3

[elliesglock]

Azzi go with Paige bad live!!!

some side notes before anything:

this live yalll 🚶🏼‍♀️‍➡️ unserious asf. first of all quit playing in my face kk with the my man comments you are so sick. i like how she switches from the my man comments to laughing at the baby stud comment like gurllll we know what you are 😭 don't even have to spell it out.

first of all, paige looking all fine in this live azzi i see why you were having some trouble studying in this live wooowweeeeee.

so there's gonna be some big time jumps in between everything because we don't see azzi a lot. however paige has never been subtle about her girl so we still get some lovelyyyt moments.

in the beginning of the live, amari walks in and they start laughing at her cause "her man's" over. kk leaves to go introduce the guy to the live and imo paige follows her out. she obv goes straight to her girl it sounds like and is giggling and laughing with her while kk's in amari's room. this probably why she's so irritated later in the live cause she can't know one moment of peace with paige 😭.

they come back into paige's room and kk sets down the camera. paige is so close to that camera like honey back up please i can feel that breath. she's staring HARDDDDDD at those comments and that's when a comment pops up that makes me want to shoot people. "paige with azzi real bad 🙄🙄". LIKE??? and ofc this nosey ass girl JUMPSSSS to touch the screen and read the comment. her eyes get all wide and she taps kk, she's laughing and kk starts laughing too. like they know yall. the way p's eyes LOCK DOWN when she sees azzi's name in the chat in general. it so gives who's talking about my girl? what they know about her? why are yall mentioning her? UGH PROTECTIVE P YOU ALWAYS BE FAMOUS. kk pushes paige in a joking way but you can tell she's so over them and us lololol. she's like i already have to hear them 24/7 talking about each other and now yall are giving them even more opportunities to mention one another GET OUTTTT.

skip to a little later, i think p's missing her girl a little bit and says, "get azzi on live." yall this whole live she's literally talking and wanting azzi to come in the room. she's mad because azzi's taking an exam and is so far (3 feet) away from her. kk kinda pauses and goes, "hmm?" like babe im just gonna pretend you didn't say that. i've heard you talking about this girl all day 🙄. live pauses for a second and im not sure if its kk doing it in case p says something or if it's just that uconn internet. i'm sure it's because of that toaster wifi. there's a interesting little moment next i wanted to bring up cause i find it funny. someone in the comments says, "kk should i get back with my ex?" and kk kinda hesitates and goes, "nooo..?" and paige says no as well. kk laughs at this. in a manner where it's sorta like she's saying girl you know damn well you did. she's basically calling out p subtly cause she knows she got back with azzi and she thinks she's being a hypocrite. that's just my interpretation according to my timeline. p's thinking of her freshman days oop. the comment replies back and says they were dating for 3 months and both of them say yeahhhh let it go. p confident as hell in her answer cause she knows she had azzi for so long and knew she was hella right for fighting for her back i know that's rightttttt.

someone in the comments asks where's azzi? kk reads it out and paige immediately says yeah go get her like she was waiting for the opportunity to speak or even see her girl again. THIS GIRL IS SICK IN LOVE YALL. she also has this....tone when she says it. veryyyy sensual. kk walks out of the room and goes up to azzi. also i'd like to point out HOW CRAZY it is that azzi's just posted up in paige's dorm room (that's not even a's dorm room btw) and she's just chilling doing an exam. azzi's a better soldier than me because the fact she's doing an exam with the literal LOUDEST most obnoxious woman ever near here is straight willpower. but since she's been caught doing hw before multiple times with paige i think she likes to do it in her dorm room. imo it's because if she gets a little frustrated she can go to p and have a little break and some snuggles before locking back in. and she knows p will help her and do whatever she needs to get through the assignment mentally and physically. p's her rock and that's always how it's gonna be. kk says azzi wants a cowboy hat from the live and azzi says nooooo in that cute little pouty voice she has. you can hear p GIGGLE in the back like a little school girl and i just find it so funny because she's definitely hanging over the edge of her bed watching the interaction to get some of her azzi time in. going back to what i saying earlier, i think az's a little upset because of her homework ofc but also because she's having a hard time and she can't go and cuddle like she's used to with p because kk's in there on live :(. poor azzi baby you'll make it out. kk asks if she's okay (like genuinely worried aweee) and azzi says she's taking an exam. kk goes ohhh and leaves immediately. paige obv is hanging onto every word because she pipes up and yells, "that's! don't let her- she's not taking an exam." GIRL HOW WOULD YOU KNOW?? she just wanna tease azzi every chance she gets. kk walks away and go back to p's room and as she's walking in she makes eye contact with paige. as if p was already staring at her and giggling for teasing azzi. they both start laughing. girlll leave my princess alone damnn. kk says "she is actually" and p responds and says "is she?" and i just want to point out whenever paige says something about azzi or is talking about her she gets this tone of voice. her voice goes deep and she speaks very lowly and flirty like. almost like the thought of azzi gets her feeling something and it translates into her voice. SHOOT ME IF YOU WANT TO BUT IM JUST SAYING.

later on, kk brings up wanting to see sabrina and steph in a three point shooting contest. paige not being able to help herself says, "my moneys on azzi." like when it comes to repping your girl yall are not fucking with p at alllllll. again, it's like she's bringing up az cause she misses her and her girls away from her :(. i know my friends and i do that whenever we're missing our significant others, we'll just bring them into conversation more because we're thinking about them heavily. kk sorta laughs and goes off camera for a second because she knows it's soooo goofy of paige to bring up azzi out of no where when the topic wasn't even about az. by god paige will make it about her tho. however, she comes back on screen and daps up paige almost like she's saying yeahhhh im tryna get like you in the future and rep my girl like that!! they both say "you already knowwwww!" and the first thought that came to my mind was dang p is so in love with azzi's talent and she wants everybody to know that's her girl and that's her goat. i mean she does it all the time saying azzi is the best player in the world.

kk sees a comment that says "i got my money on azzi lol" that's making fun of p. she laughs for a second and hands the phone to p to show her. p laughs with her little azzi smile reading it before repeating you already knowwwww. she's subtly hinting again that that's her girl and she WILL be her biggest fan and yall are not allowed to be at all. kk goofily says "and we're gonna end the live" at the comment and they both laugh.

they move on, but p can't stop talking about her girl for 5 minutes. again, because she's thinking about her and wants her to come homeeeeee (her room). she'd rather rip her skin off than not bring up azzi. so she says, "she's not even taking the test no more." she's so desperate it's soooo hiliarious. kk pipes in and says yeahhh she's chatting! p agrees. she needs to go mess with her again, so she brings in the big guns and both her and kk go in this time. kk goes in and says "are you okay" and I KNOWWWW az is giving her the dirtiest look and kk looks a little scared now. but fret not p knows she can mess with her and azzi will never get madddddd cause that's her girl and she loves her (at least in p's delusional head she thinks azzi won't say anything to her). so here's comes this loud ass bitch screaming " AZZIIIII!" and i know az's body immediately tenses up cause girl me too. and then paige screams, AZZI again. it's giving a little kid trying to get their moms attention fr 😭 she seems so done and defeated when she says, "no paige pls im almost done seriously." and she's truly begging for her life cause she knows p will keep annoying her. p obv gets very sassy and pouty and doesn't like this cause she goes, "WHAT THE HE....." before kk mutes her. they probs bicker for a calm little ten seconds and p ofc loses and tucks her tail between her legs. next time we see p she's sitting on the bed again playing her game, oh azzi put belt to asssssss!! she said SIT YO ASS DOWN I NEED TO FINISH THIS. and no matter how loud and sassy p is she's gonna do what her princess says.

kk leaves and goes to go to other peoples dorms. but the legend says azzi stayed and finished her final and went to paige's room and stayed the night 🤫 i just find it so funny as kk's leaving she says goodnight to both of them it just gives she's saying goodnight to her moms and leaving their room before going to sleep. it's so adorable. my kk pazzi's kid agenda IS UPPPPP rn.

that's it yall, thanks for reading!!!

(also aliyah and aubrey at the end isssssss soooo cute)

[airenyah]

A LOOK AT STYLE'S JOURNEY | Ep 9

(Overview | Ep1+2 | Ep3 | Ep4 | Ep5 | Ep6 | Ep7 | Ep8)

Yeah, I don't really have any introductory words to say on this one except... ENJOY <3

Pronoun situation: As usual, just assume Fadel and Style use the rude pronouns guu/mueng with each other unless I specify otherwise.

To recap: On their road trip through the country, Fadel and Style ran into an interesting pair and got involved in their (pre-)marital dispute. Style finally figures out what exactly Fadel is mad about and makes him a promise.

No. 1: A Stylish Death

Once more, Style and Fadel are on the road. Fadel finally took Style's advice from the end of episode 7 to heart and is currently taking a nap on the backseat of the car instead of threatening Style non-stop. Style turns his head to check on him, then shakes his head and looks back to the road, his expression amused. It's my personal headcanon that he finds it just as funny and ridiculous (affectionate) how bad of a kidnapper Fadel is as we the fandom do. What kidnapper just sleeps peacefully while letting their victim drive them around in a car without supervision? Speaking of headcanons, you know how there's been talk about where exactly Style got the sunglasses from all of a sudden? My mom suggested that they could be Bison's and that they just happened to lie around in the car, but it's my headcanon that Style actually nicked them from Jimmy and Popcorn's house. He probably found the glasses somewhere around the house and charmed the two of them into giving them to him before he and Fadel left.

Anyway, the radio cuts out and Style ends up finding a photo of some mysterious guy in the glove compartment in search of CDs. To be honest, I don't think Style is all that jealous in this moment (I think he'd know if there was a love rival he needed to worry about, I think he can read Fadel well enough by now), but I do think he's very confused and intrigued. Because Fadel did tell him four episodes ago that he didn't have any past lovers. And only the night before (I assume) they had a chat in which Style mentions that he doesn't know Fadel's past. And I think Style wants to know. About Fadel's past and now about the guy in the photo specifically, because that guy is likely connected to Fadel's past, too. Which Style wants to know about.

But right in that moment, Fadel wakes up. Style quickly throws the photo back into the compartment, slams it shut and immediately ropes Fadel into a conversation so that Fadel doesn't even have the time to ask what Style was doing in case he saw anything. Fadel starts telling Style about Bison's parents' island and house and Style hopes his best friend is still alive. The only thing Fadel has to say about that is: "I can’t guarantee that. You’ll have to find out for yourself." That's not a very reassuring answer. "Can’t you at least lie to make me feel better?" Style asks. Language fun fact, Style's reply actually goes more like:

Can't you give me some hope, please? มึงให้ความหวังกูหน่อยก็ได้ป่ะ [mueng - hâi - kwaam wăng - guu - nòi - gôh dâai - bpà] you - give - hope - me - a little (please) - [particle] - ?

Then Style asks for a quick stop at a clothes store because "I’ve been wearing [your clothes] this whole time, and it’s getting disgusting" and I just love that @panncakes was spot on when they said:

im just saying style is obviously not wearing his own shirt in episode 8 and since fadel had time to prepare for this search mission he obviously brought essentials including spare sets of clothing and baggy black does scream fadel; so im just going to assume fadel has style Who He's Definitely Killing Soon running around in his own clothing because you can't have a dead man running around in day old dirty clothes obviously and not because sharing clothes is becoming their Thing

In a bit we will see that Style actually is wearing a shirt that we've seen Fadel wear before on the show.

They start bickering, because Fadel isn't in the mood to go shopping for clothes, but Style fights for his will by joking about Fadel killing him and going on a very Style-like monologue about wanting to be a good-looking corpse. When he's done monologuing, he turns his head and throws Fadel a side glance to check if it worked.

It did.

No. 2: You Better Run, Better Run, Faster Than His Bullet

It worked. Despite Fadel's reluctance they are now standing in a clothes store on Style's request and that makes 3/3 series that JoongDunk have gone to a clothes store in. I'm starting to wonder if looking at clothes together on camera is in their contracts. Maybe the real sunflowers were the clothes stores we made along the way. (Yes, I am still waiting for a JD sun flower Easter egg. Since sun flowers were such a big thing in both their previous works and their mascot is a sunflower too.) Anyway, so Fadel caved and let Style go shopping for clothes after all, because when does Fadel not give in to Style and Style is hyped. They bicker some more and Style finally calls Fadel out for being a bad kidnapper while at the same time using the opportunity to pointedly call himself Fadel's boyfriend and just as pointedly call Fadel his own boyfriend again as well. Just listen to how much he stresses the word "faen". Actually, let me just share a more literal translation again, because he doesn't just throw around the word "boyfriend" two but three whole times in Thai:

Right now I feel more like a boyfriend. ตอนเนี่ยรู้สึกเหมือน​แฟนมากกว่า [dton nîia - rúu-sèuk - mĕuuan - faen - mâak gwàa] (right) now - feel - like - boyfriend - more Official subs: I feel like a boyfriend. It's/You're like a boyfriend who accompanies his boyfriend while shopping. เหมือนแฟนมาเฝ้าแฟนช้อปปิ้งอ่ะ [mĕuuan - faen - maa - fâo - faen - chóp-bpîng - àh] like - boyfriend - come - watch over, care - boyfriend - shopping - [particle] Official subs: This feels like going shopping with my boyfriend.

(The italicized boyfriends indicate which boyfriends Style pointedly stresses.)

Last episode, Fadel claimed twice that he and Style weren't boyfriends/a couple after Style referred to them as such. Now Style is calling them boyfriends again, but the only thing that Fadel debunks this time around is the claim that Style is his hostage. Fadel doesn't say a single word about them not being boyfriends. He ends his defense by claiming that Style doesn't hold enough value to be exchanged for anything and Style throws him a little nod like Sure Jan whatever you say. 

Fadel continues to say "I'm just letting you find a little joy before I kill you" and that's interesting because:

I'm only letting you be a little happy before you die. กูแค่ให้มึงมีความสุขเล็กๆ น้อย​ๆ​ ก่อนตายเท่านั้นแหละ [guu - kâe - hâi - mueng - mii kwaam-sùk - lék lék nói nói - gòhn - dtaai - tâo nán - làe] I - just - let, give - you - be happy - little, small - before - die - only - [particle]

Let's compare with every other explicit death threat that Fadel has made to Style since he's kidnapped him:

Doesn't matter where [I'm taking you]. You'll be dead anyway. But before I kill you, I have to see my brother.

Once I find him, I'm going to kill you both.

One wrong move, I'm blowing your brain out.

If my car was stolen, not only would I kill you, I'd take a car from your garage.

Just because I let you do this doesn't mean I won't kill you, you know?

Do you see what's different all of a sudden? Yeah, that's right. Fadel threatened Style's life, but he did not say that he would be the one ending it. For once, Fadel did not say that he, Fadel, would be killing Style. The only other time he made a reference about Style being dead rather than him killing Style was the very first time he voiced an explicit death threat and that one was still followed by an "I kill you" in the very next sentence. Now, though? There is no "I (will) kill you" anywhere to be found. It's the same thing a few lines down: "You're going to die soon, what else do you want?" (Btw, I did check the Thai lines in the list above and in Thai he also says that he'll kill Style each time.)

I don't know if Style picks up on that subtle change in phrasing, but he certainly isn't as annoyed by and tired of the death threats anymore as he used to be. Instead, he now deals with them by making light of them, like earlier in the car when he insisted he wanted to be a good-looking corpse and now by asking Fadel to drop his dead body in a beautiful place so that at least his ghost could haunt nice places in nature. And what I love about this is that even though this is clearly meant more like a light-hearted joke, Style still sounds almost kind of genuine in his words. Because Fadel is "serious" about his death threats and so Style will also be serious about his dying wishes. And even though he doesn't believe that Fadel will actually kill him, Style still would rather haunt a beautiful place when he dies (even if it isn't at Fadel's hands). That part is genuine. However, Fadel ain't got no time for this particular wish. And so he threatens Style's life one more time by playing along with Style: "If you don't choose something right now, the only place you're haunting is this damn secondhand store."

Style stares at Fadel for a moment. Message received. It's time for Style to back down from being annoying or else Fadel will really lose his patience. And so Style turns his attention to the clothes rack, but not without showing Fadel how completely and utterly unimpressed he is by Fadel threatening death for the millionth time in the past 3-ish days. Style soon gets distracted from his performance when he notices a nice pair of shorts, which he grabs and then pointedly holds out to Fadel like There. I'm choosing something. Happy now? 

Style seriously starts looking for something to wear after that and he's so focused on the clothes that he misses the way Fadel watches him with the most adoring look in his eyes. Style finds a top he likes and walks off to try it on. When he comes back to ask for Fadel's opinion on his outfit, Fadel points out that Style never really wears stripes:

But I don't really see you wearing striped clothes. แต่กูไม่ค่อยเห็นมึงใส่เสื้อลายทางนะ [dtàe - guu - mâi kôi - hĕn - mueng - sài - sêuua laai taang - ná] but - I - not really - see - you - wear - striped clothes - [particle] Official subs: I never saw you in stripes before.

Just wanted to make a little clarification, because in the subs Fadel actually says "I never saw you in stripes before" when Fadel actually has, in fact, seen Style in stripes. But "not really" and "never" isn't quite the same. In Thai Fadel implies that Style rarely wears stripes, not that he never wears stripes, and I think Style wearing stripes in front of Fadel three times in eight episodes is rare enough to be considered "not really".

Fadel taking note of this fact has Style quite satisfied, because Fadel is clearly paying attention to him. Then Style firmly tells Fadel "You can't kill me. You love me." and this stand-off really reminds me of the one in the storage room in episode 3 when Style tells Fadel "You won't [punch me]. You like me." Except this time Style is even more confident in his words. In fact, he knows he's right, because Fadel has had many perfect opportunities to kill him in the last couple of days, was actually close to killing him a few times and yet Style is still alive and kicking and actively being an annoying little menace in Fadel's life. And he also knows for a fact that Fadel is in love with him. He tested him in the bathtub and got a satisfactory result. Instead of being punched in the gut like last time, Style suddenly finds himself whirled around and on the ground, everything accompanied by the sound of gunshots. 

From one second to the next, Style finds himself worrying about his his life again after he's finally managed to deal with his fear of death triggered by the pool incident. Somehow, Fadel and Style still have the time to bicker while Fadel fires off a few more gunshots and then they run to a different hiding spot. I do love how Style's first instinct the moment Fadel has dropped down on the ground next to him is to reach out to Fadel. And I love how Style doesn't even seem to be thinking about it, he just touches Fadel automatically, his hand seeks out Fadel almost out of reflex.

Fadel realizes he's out of bullets and blames Style who defends himself and then asks how they're gonna fight this guy. And once again we get to see how much of a helper Style is and how much of a need to fix things he has, because he immediately offers himself up as bait to distract the attacker. Fadel hates the idea, but Style insists. He's too helpful for his own good. Style gets in position to run, but turns back to Fadel for a moment when Fadel calls out Style's name a few times. Fadel tilts his head in disapproval like Are you fucking serious right now?! Style nods and blinks at him in a silent answer: Yeah. It'll be fine, don't worry. I got this. Then Style bravely runs off. His need to help overrides his fear of death. 

Turns out Style cannot, in fact, outrun bullets. A bullet grazes him and he goes down. And at this point, let me just leave @secriden's observation here, because it totally hadn't occurred to me and it hurts me, so obviously I need to make it everyone else's problem, too:

[I]it is just deliciously dramatic that Style gets injured precisely dressed in the clothes he'd picked out so he could "at least die in something that's actually my style" and in the place Fadel said Style would haunt only minutes prior.

Fadel finds Style a minute or two later, once he's dealt with the attacker and they're both safe. Style says "It’s just a graze" and "This is nothing" and I'm not sure if he's saying this more to reassure Fadel or to reassure himself. His mouth says one thing, but his face sure says another.

Whatever brave face Style was putting on a moment ago disappears once Fadel starts wrapping his own shirt around Style's injury. Style goes down, clearly in pain. And I'm left wondering... Is that it? Is this why we've been counting Style around guns? Was it foreshadowing to Style getting shot? Only time will tell.

No. 3: Treating the Wounded

Somehow Fadel gets Style onto Bison's island. I wonder how far away they were at the point of Style being shot and how long it took for them to arrive on the island. Style is weak and pale and yet the first and also only thing out of his mouth is "Kant… You're alive. I'm happy to see that". Kant's death is a worry that Style has carried around ever since that morning at the hospital right before Fadel ambushed him and now that I think about it, this worry must have also played a part in Style's fear of and about death last episode. But Kant is alive. His best friend is alive. And that's all that matters through the pain right now.

Kant wants to help but Fadel immediately yells at him to let go of Style the moment Kant grabs Style's arm. I'm sure Style would have been cool with Kant also helping him, but Style currently doesn't have the energy to talk back to Fadel. Fadel continues to lead him towards the house and at one point as they're walking we see Style shut his eyes for a moment in a way that has me wonder if for a second his vision went blurry and/or if he's feeling dizzy from the pain and the shock of the injury:

Once at the house, Bison stitches Style back up while Fadel helps and acts as Style's moral support. I'm not sure how many details of what is happening here will be retained in Style's memory as his brain is certainly too busy with keeping him alive through the pain.

No. 4: Bestie Talk

Style wakes up in a bed and Kant finds him only a minute later with painkillers. Style first voices his relief that he himself didn't die from the shock of the surgery, followed by his relief that Kant isn't a corpse either. Kant's potential death really is something that was weighing him down. But Kant's alive! And he even told Bison about everything! Style can't believe his ears. How in the world is Kant still alive, then? Kant says "He loves me" and Style goes "Ohhhhhhhhh" while I go "The power of love, huh?" and then Style goes "The power of love, alright" and I die of laughter at how predictable Style's words were. Style, believer in the power of love, is very happy that his prediction was right, is very happy for his friend and his happiness. Kant continues "I love him, too. I'll do anything to keep him alive" and Style asks "And how are you going to do that? This mess is getting out of hand. It's not just the cops who are after them, but someone else clearly wants them dead" and it's interesting, because so far in their 1:1 scenes it was always Style being the optimistic one, the hopeful one, the dreamer while Kant kept things realistic and had a more pessimistic outlook on life. This time, though, it's the other way around. This time Style hits Kant with the realism. And it makes sense, because it was also Style who got hit by a real bullet. Style has felt and is actually currently feeling the very real consequences of "I'll do anything to keep him alive". One moment you think you can outrun a bullet, the next you almost die on a make-shift surgery table.

Kant says he doesn't exactly know how he's going to go about it, but that his heart is already in it. Style looks away, clearly thinking about something, then raises his eyebrows and nods.

"My heart is already in this." Style knows. Oh, how well Style knows that feeling. The feeling of wanting to do something, anything in the world for the well-being and safety of your hitman boyfriend. He's been feeling like this for a long time now. If we're being honest, Style has felt like this since all the way back in episode 5 where he told Kant "How would I even get through this? I compromised my whole body, and if we're being honest, I've already compromised half of my heart, too. I'm worried about him now" in that locker room. But back then things were going great for Style. Fadel had finally given him a chance and was happily dating Style while Style was falling in love with him more and more despite knowing his true identity. Back then, things were great. Now, though? Not so much. One moment Fadel threatens him with death, the next moment Fadel saves him from death. Style is happy that everything worked out well for his beloved bestie and his hitman boyfriend, but he himself is quite confused at the mixed signals he's getting from his own hitman: "Meanwhile, my chances are 50-50. He's hot and then cold. He loves me and then he doesn't. I honestly can't keep up with him." And I don't think the 50-50 refers to there being a 50-50 chance on whether Fadel will kill him or not. I think by now everyone and their mother knows that Fadel absolutely cannot bring himself to take Style's life no matter how hard he tries (and how hard he tries to convince himself otherwise) and Style is very much aware of it. He even called Fadel out on it at the store. No, I think the 50-50 is out on whether Fadel will forgive him and whether Fadel is willing to give Style another chance. Style knows Fadel loves him, but is the love he has also enough to let Style in again? Is it enough to put his walls down for Style again? And besides, apart from saving Style's life a few times, ever since Fadel found out the truth Fadel hasn't exactly been treating Style in a way that makes Style feel loved and appreciated while Style has done nothing but show his love and appreciation for Fadel. Fadel hasn't exactly shown that he really cares about Style. Style made it very clear that despite Fadel nearly taking his life at the pool, he still loved Fadel and was even willing to sleep with him anyway and Fadel just handcuffed him to the bed in return and told Style he didn't trust him. Style cried from trauma and the only consolation Fadel gave him was "don't be dramatic" and "I don't wanna listen". Style voiced genuine concerns about being murdered and Fadel came back with approval of Style's murder. Style called them boyfriends and Fadel returns with yet another death threat. Those aren't exactly bright prospects for Style and no matter how much Style stays in good spirits, deep down it's gotta hurt, too. Fadel may love Style enough not to kill him, but does he even care about him at all as well?

But Kant has an outside perspective and sees things that Style doesn't see. And from that perspective it looks like Fadel absolutely does care: "But from what I saw, he had your hands clasped in his so tightly. And the way he looked at you was exactly how I looked at Bison at the hospital." Style looks away again, even more lost in thought this time around as he contemplates Kant's words and thinks about Fadel holding his hand through the surgery as well as his relationship with him. Kant's words should come as good news, but Style still looks rather downhearted.

It may seem a little odd that our usual confident, optimistic, hopeful boy is suddenly discouraged. However, I think it makes sense. Style knows that Fadel loves him, but he hasn't exactly been treating Style in a way that makes Style actually feel that love (not killing Style and saving his life is kind of the bare minimum at this point, let's be real). Not to mention, there are also many things that we, the viewers, see from an outside perspective, but Style himself doesn't see them, like when Fadel nearly reached out to Style when Style was crying, or the look of adoration Fadel was watching Style with at the clothes store, or the concern Fadel showed while Bison was stitching Style up. But for the last incident, there was someone there to witness the outside perspective and finally Style learns how Fadel looks when Style's not looking. And that makes Style think. Fadel does seem to care. And Kant's words also serve to reconfirm that Style is right about Fadel loving him, but is that love enough to make Fadel want to be with Style again? After all, Style still has to work for Fadel's forgiveness. And I think that's why Style ultimately isn't all that convinced by Kant's words, because what good does the knowledge that Fadel loves him do, when there's a chance Fadel still won't take him back? What good does the knowledge that Fadel does care do, when it only happens in moments where Style is missing out on it? When it only happens in moments where that care doesn't properly reach Style?

Kant can tell that his friend is still unhappy, so he changes the topic to something more cheerful: "Thanks, though, for risking your life looking for me." This has Style genuinely laughing again as he says "I don’t need your gratitude." Another interpretation of this line is actually:

No need to get so touching, dude. ไม่ต้องมาซึ้งเลยมึง [mâi dtông - maa - séung - loiie - mueng] no need - come - touching, deep - [particle] - you

I think this is a little more coherent with Kant teasing Style about saying "I love you" afterwards, but that might also just be me. Anyway, Style and Kant bicker a bit and Kant accidentally causes pain to Style's injured arm. When they stop bickering, Style, who is in a bit of a better mood again after feeling a down about Fadel only moments before, now really wants to know alllll the tea he's missed while he was busy surviving the pain of the surgery: "When [Fadel] had my hand in his, how did he look at me?"

Kant goes into a dramatic reenactment for Style until they both break away laughing about how weird the thought of the two of them (Kant and Style) to kiss is. Once they've calmed down, Kant repeats that Fadel is worried about Style. Style smiles to himself, getting lost in thought again. It's still not an entirely happy smile, because Style still has a way to go to earn Fadel's forgiveness and Fadel still needs to make it clear in return that he does care about Style and appreciates him in a way where Style can actually see or feel it, but Style is definitely more hopeful again compared to earlier in the conversation. Maybe there is a chance Fadel is willing to give Style another chance after all. Maybe there really is still hope that Style will get his boyfriend back and that said boyfriend will also start treating him accordingly again. Maybe things aren't so bleak after all.

No. 5: Over My Dead Body

However, things take a dark turn when Style walks in on the love of his life holding his best friend at gunpoint. Style missed the beginning of the confrontation, so technically he doesn't really have context, but he also doesn't really need it, because he knows exactly what grudge Fadel is holding. No need to ask. Besides, the day they were playing with the BB guns Fadel already told Style "Kant has to deal with me. He started all this, after all." And now Fadel is making good on that promise.

But Style has been so worried about Kant's safety for so many episodes already and especially ever since Kant got kidnapped and now that Style's finally got his best friend back, alive, and he is not going to watch his (not-)boyfriend kill him in front of his very own eyes and so he shouts at Fadel not to hurt Kant. However, Kant is ready to accept his fate. But before he dies, Fadel needs to know that Style is innocent: "But Style has nothing to do with this. I lied to get him roped into this." Remember the word หลอก [lòhk] from last episode? Yeah, it makes an appearance again. Just so you know:

I deceived my friend one more time. ผมหลอกเพื่อนผมมาอีกทีนึงอ่ะ [pŏm - lòhk - pêuuan pŏm - maa - ìik tii nueng - àh] I - trick, deceive - my friend - [past tense marker] - one more time again - [particle]

(If you didn't read my ep8 meta: this word means "to trick" or "to deceive" and it came up A LOT during ep8. Lots of tricking and deceiving happening on this show. Who would have thought.)

But Style is not cool with Kant's sacrifice. "Don't you dare take all the credits," Style scolds him. And here, have the Thai version too, because it made me laugh:

Don't be cool all by yourself. มึงอย่าเท่คนเดียวดิวะ [mueng - yàa - têh - kon diieow - dì - wá] you - don't - (be) cool - alone, by yourself - [particle] - [particle]

Style won't let Kant to this alone. If Kant has to die, so does Style. And he makes that very clear to Fadel: "If you're going to kill him, kill me, too." Style's voice sounds angry when he says this and this is interesting, because Style hasn't really been properly angry with Fadel ever since he found himself tied up at the pool. Sure, Style got annoyed and he was even really done with Fadel at some points, but Style was never angry with Fadel, he never held any of what Fadel said or did to him against Fadel. No, instead of getting angry, Style just went with it and often met Fadel with kindness and love instead. But now that his best friend's life is on the line, Style is finally truly angry at Fadel. Fadel can shoot Kant over Style's dead body. And with the many times Fadel has saved Style in the last couple of days, Style knows for a fact that his dead body is not something Fadel can bear to see. Even when Fadel himself is the one who wants Style dead.

Style continues: "Nobody forced me into this. I agreed to it willingly." Style could have gotten out of this mess at any point after he was informed of Fadel's real occupation and of what Kant's real mission was, but Style didn't. Style stayed. And he even stuck to Fadel's side all throughout episode 8 without running away which is something that he did willingly. Not because he was afraid of Fadel's gun. Fadel never really treated Style as an actual hostage apart from that one time he handcuffed Style to the bed and the few times he waved his gun in Style's face. Style had plenty of opportunities to make a run for it, especially when Fadel was napping in the car. But Style chose to stay. Nobody forced him to do anything, not Fadel during their road trip and also not Kant at any time before that. Style went along with everything by his own choice and of his own will. No one's made any decisions for Style. Style also has agency in this game.

Style underlines this point by dropping down on his knees and offering his life by his very own choice. "Don't you have a little sympathy? We've been through all these things together. Why did you bother stitching me up if you're going to end up killing me anyway? Why didn't you just let me die?" Style is still angry, but now his voice sounds more reproachful as well as desperate. Style's hurt is really starting to shine through. He has stuck to Fadel's side with unwavering loyalty these past few days, has shown over and over again that he's serious about Fadel and his feelings for Fadel, he's been nice to Fadel, has helped him, has followed his wishes, has even nearly given his life to protect Fadel in the store. And not a single time has Fadel shown any sign of appreciation or as much as acknowledgment. That hurts. Even more so, when Fadel then goes to murder Style's best friend as a thank you in return for all that Style has done for him. I think when Style asks "Don't you have a little sympathy?" the unspoken question is You don't care about me, despite all that I've willingly done for you? Style's next words are even more loaded: "Why did you bother stitching me up if you're going to end up killing me anyway? Why didn't you just let me die?" This is You do care about me, because if you really did hate me all that much you could have easily let me die back there and finally be rid of me, but you didn't. You couldn't bear to see me die. This is If you care about me and my life this much, then why do you keep treating me so coldly? This is You saved my life and now you're just gonna destroy it immediately after? Are you really this cruel?

As Style is kneeling there, I don't think he is scared for his own life, I don't think he expects Fadel to actually shoot him dead on the spot. I think Style feels fairly safe in this moment, but he is terrified for Kant's life. He knows that Fadel can't bring himself to kill Style, because he loves him too much, but Fadel doesn't feel the same way about Kant. In fact, Fadel feels quite the opposite about Kant. If Fadel kills Kant now, even if he spares Style, Style's life would still be ruined. No matter how much Style insists that he'll like Fadel no matter what, I think if Fadel kills his best friend (or any of Style's loved ones really, like his dad), I think that's the one exception to the rule. I do think they would not be able to come back from that.

This moment here is also the first time Style actually begs Fadel for mercy. Yes, back at the pool he also worked on Fadel not firing that life-ending shot, but back then Style was mostly angry and annoyed and only a little scared. Yes, he did ask Fadel not to kill him, but back then Style was begging for his life, not for mercy. Back then Style didn't ask Fadel to show compassion. But now Style is on his knees, desperately begging Fadel to be merciful, to show compassion, to really think things through. Fadel stares at him.

Fadel may not appreciate the loyalty Style has shown him over the last few days, but Kant very much does appreciate Style's loyalty and voices it, too: "I'm happy to have called you a friend." Style replies "Thank you for making my life such an adventure. It's been so goddamn fun, you know that?" and now tears start falling from his eyes as he's speaking. And what I love about this is despite how Style is crying and despite how upset he is in this moment and despite how terrified he is about their (Kant's) death, for Style his potential goodbye to Kant isn't a tragedy. No, it's a celebration. Style is upset and he is sad and he is desperate and afraid, but he smiles a genuine smile through his tears as he speaks his potential last words that Kant may get to hear from him. It's a celebration of their friendship. Style takes this tragic moment and turns it into a happy one. Because if death is inevitable, he at least wants to spend their (Kant's) dying moment in happiness and with good memories in mind. Kant acknowledges that celebration with a smile and a nod, which Style returns.

But Fadel stays stubborn. "How can we be sure you're not just fooling us again?" Style's smile and brief moment of happiness has disappeared when he replies to Fadel. "You think I'd risk my life for all this if I didn't really have feelings for you?" Style is still firm, but now all the anger from moments before is completely gone. Only hurt and despair is left. Style is asking Fadel All this time you never thought or cared to see my perspective, did you? He's telling Fadel I'm here before you, literally begging you on my knees and you are STILL not willing to believe a single word out of my mouth nor any of my actions. Style may always act like Fadel's continuous stabs at him just bounce right off, but at the end of the day it does hurt him that Fadel keeps pushing him away, keeps refusing to appreciate or at the very least acknowledge Style's genuine sincerity. Style's words are reproachful, like he's asking What else do I still need to do in order to prove to you that I'm being serious, no tricks? How much longer will you disregard my very real feelings? Are you really that stubborn? Is this really the hill you're going to die on?

Now Kant jumps in with a beg of his own to support Style: "People make mistakes. Won't you give me a chance? I really love your brother, and my friend really loves you. The two of us will do anything to make sure the two of you get the life you want." Fadel looks at Style after Kant says "The two of us will do anything to make sure the two of you get the life you want." Style has his eyes fixed on Fadel and despite Style still being tense and his breathing being shaky, the expression on Style's face is firm and determined. Style really meant every single thing he just said or did. And he is especially determined in his decision to die alongside Kant. Style is sending a couple of messages to Fadel here. He's saying Since you're always disregarding my own feelings on this matter anyway it really seems like you don't give a shit about me after all, so killing me in addition to Kant really shouldn't be a problem for you at all, so go on, do it. He's telling him If you kill him, you kill me too. If not physically, then at the very least emotionally. He's asking Won't you finally believe that I'm undoubtedly serious and honest about everything and especially about you?

Style is also observing Fadel, watching Fadel intently to see what he's doing, to see what his next move is going to be. Fadel, who was staring at Style, looks back to Kant, then throws Style another look.

And that's when he makes the decision to not to shoot. To put the gun away, instead. And that decision was without a doubt made for Style, not for Bison. I think Style's words (and especially also the unspoken ones) got to him and more importantly, he got to see Style's loyalty in full action. And that was crucial for Fadel to see, because if Style is this loyal to Kant, then if Style's love for Fadel is true, Fadel can expect the same loyalty from him down the line. In fact, Style actually has shown Fadel the same loyalty all along already, or else he wouldn't have followed Fadel to Bison's island, nor would he have thrown himself in the line of fire at the store to protect Fadel. Although I'm not sure Fadel is really ready to truly look at and acknowledge that in this moment.

Fadel puts the gun down and walks a few steps away. Both Bison and Style rush to Kant to check on him. Once Style has made sure Kant is alright, he looks to Fadel. Fadel is looking at him too.

Then Fadel looks at the rest and asks "Any of you allergic to seafood?" And yes, that comment is funny, but it's funny in a way that in German we call Situationskomik (= situational comedy, comedy of the situation). I really don't think Fadel is making a joke here (like. that is NOT the face of a man who is cracking a joke). No, I think this is a peace offering, actually. It's an unspoken peace offering, because cooking for someone else is a gesture of care. And instead of killing Kant, Fadel offers to cook for everyone which includes Kant.

No. 6: Encouragement

Style on the phone with his dad and I'm relieved, because I'd been worrying about his dad with Style suddenly disappearing just like that without a word. And I'm sooo so glad the series spent a moment on showing us the relationship between Style and his dad again. Like, of course Style is gonna call his dad so that his dad doesn't have to worry. Bison is concerned that Style's dad will be mad if Style shows up back home all banged up like that, but Style is confident he can come up with some superhero story and promises not to spill the beans on Fadel and Bison. Style and Bison have some friendly banter until Bison tells Style that Fadel wants to talk to him and said for Style to meet him at the beach. Style is suddenly worried that Fadel changed his mind and wants to shoot him after all, since Style had already offered as much when he was on his knees earlier that day.

I think we have well-established by now that there is no way Fadel is capable of killing Style, and as I mentioned, I think Style is confident in that, too. So I don't think Style thinks Fadel is actually planning to kill him for real, I think he's mostly just being overdramatic and exaggerating again. Bison then plays along and says "No way. The worst he'd do would be trying to drown you" and when Style blinks at Bison and stares at him in shock I think it's because Style doesn't immediately recognize that this is a joke. After all, he hasn't really spent all that much time with Bison, so he doesn't really know Bison and his humor all that well. So Style stares at Bison with big eyes, then tilts his head and squeezes his eyes a bit, trying to figure out whether Bison is being serious right now and if this is something Fadel would actually do (after all, Bison knows Fadel's killer side a hell of a lot better than Style does) or whether Bison is just joking. Bison notices Style's struggle and clears up that he's just kidding and that Fadel wouldn't do that. But it's already too late. Bison's got Style genuinely concerned now. Fadel has proven over and over again that he won't be shooting Style, but who said anything about drowning Style? It's a possibility that Style had not yet considered.

Bison laughs and asks if Style really does like Fadel. All the fear and worry from a second ago disappears instantly as Style firmly tells him "Whatever Kant feels about you, that's how I feel about your brother. If you understand him, you should be able to understand me." Style fell in love with Fadel in episode 5 and absolutely nothing that has happened since, and especially absolutely nothing that has happened since Fadel drugged him at the hospital has changed any about that. Style chose Fadel at the end of episode 5 and he is still very set on that decision.

Bison advises Style that Style needs to prove his feelings to Fadel and tells Style "He acts all tough and rough on the outside, but on the inside, he’s just a softie". Style laughs. He did get to see that for himself during that short time period where he and Fadel were actually happy in their relationship. Bison continues: "He never hesitates when he kills. So if you're still alive, that means he's got a soft spot for you." Again, I think this is something that Style has absolutely clocked already and even called out (both explicitly at the beginning of the episode when he said "You can't kill me. You love me" as well as implicitly whenever he was teasing Fadel, for example in his hitman-teerak monologue or when he quoted Popcorn's words and went "I deserve to die" and cockily leaned his head back to mimic giving his life over to Fadel), but I also think that it still hits kinda different to hear it from someone who first of all has an outside perspective on things and second of all who knows Fadel's killer side better than anyone, from someone who's seen over and over again what Fadel is like when he's murderous, from someone who can absolutely judge the difference. Which Style can't, because he's never seen Fadel actually kill anyone, even if he got close to witnessing it a few times.

Style had started to get discouraged, because Fadel just wouldn't budge and just wouldn't let Style back in and Style just kept hitting one wall after another. And we can't forget that Style spent a lot of time repeatedly hitting walls for the first four episodes already and even when Fadel let him in, Fadel never let him in 100% (only 80%) and so even then Style still came across walls. And I think on top of being discouraged, Style was also starting to get tired a bit. It must be quite exhausting to be this persistent, let's be real. There is only so much energy you can spend on running after someone who keeps pushing you away again and again and keeps being harsh to you. Fadel hasn't even talked to Style or checked on him since Style woke up after the surgery. As far as we're aware of, the only time they've talked since then was when Style was begging for mercy on his knees. So yeah. That sure is encouraging.

But first with Kant's optimism and now with Bison's support as well, Style is starting to feel like maybe not all is lost after all. Hesitantly, he asks Bison:

You think I still have hope? มึงว่ากูยังมีหวังอยู่ป่ะวะ [mueng - wâa - guu - yang - mii - wăng - yùu - bpà - wá] you - think - I - still - have - hope - [auxiliary verb] - ? - [particle] Official subs: You think… I have a chance?

Style is starting to get his hopes up a little bit again. Maybe Fadel will take him back and be nice to him again. Bison is absolutely convinced: "Go for it. After all you've risked your life for, what else do you even have to be scared of now?" Style looks towards the ground, uncertain. Yeah, what else could he be scared of?

Nothing, except Fadel potentially drowning him in the ocean instead of rejecting him like a normal person. Or, you know, just the rejection in general, even if it doesn't come with murder. Honestly, at this point I think Style is also lowkey nervous, because now he really does have (strong) feelings for Fadel and Fadel being willing to be his boyfriend (again. or still) matters more than anything this time around. What will Style do if Fadel rejects him again?

Bison taps his shoulder encouragingly and walks off. Style stays back, thinking everything over.

How is he going to proceed from here? Is he going to try yet again and risk running into another wall as always? Or is he just gonna let it go and finally leave Fadel alone?

No. 7: A Vow Fulfilled

Style does go to the beach. When he arrives, Fadel is already there which makes sense, since Bison did tell Style that Fadel wanted to talk to him at the beach. Except Fadel immediately snaps at Style about what Style is doing here and asks about Bison. Style informs him that Bison was actually the one who said Fadel wanted to talk to Style right here. I think based on Fadel's facial journey and the fact that he moves to walk right off, Style can tell that Bison lied, probably to get Fadel and Style to talk to each other. And now, with new found hope, Style does very much have something to talk to Fadel about. So he catches Fadel's arm and pulls him back, asking him to at least stay for a chat. Fadel isn't really convinced and Style hits him with a cheeky "I can't sleep unless I talk to you". He then hands Fadel a list of all the relatives he has in his life, because "I want you to be sure that I'm not lying to you again." And I'm just gonna drop the Thai line again, because – ding ding ding, you guessed it! Our favorite word หลอก [lòhk] from last episode makes an appearance again:

I want you to be confident that I won't deceive you again. กูอยากให้มึงมั่นใจว่ากูจะไม่หลอกมึงอีก [guu - yàak - hâi - mueng - mân-jai - wâa - guu - jà - mâi - lòhk - mueng - ìik] I - want - that - you - (be) certain, confident - that - I - will - not - trick, deceive - you - again

If you haven't read my ep8 meta, I would encourage you to go read at least sections 6, 9 and 10, so that you have context for its significance. Last episode Style figured out that having been tricked (especially into love) was the one big thing that Fadel was really mad about. Last episode Fadel asked Style "You think that you deceiving (tricking) me is no big deal?" when they were sitting on the couch, then later when they were dancing, Style acknowledged that it is in fact a big deal and tells Fadel "But I'm ready to do anything to make you forgive me." Later in the bathtub Style acknowledges again that he did a bad thing by tricking (deceiving) and betraying Fadel (again I refer you to section 10 of my ep8 meta). And now, as Style is actively doing something in the hopes that it will finally make Fadel forgive him, he once again repeats to him the exact thing that Fadel is mad about, promising he won't be tricking/deceiving Fadel ever again. And yeah, the official translation isn't exactly wrong, because lying is in fact a thing that comes with deceiving or tricking people and this word can be translated as "lying", but I just want some consistency in the word choice. Because I'm sure the consistency of the word choice หลอก [lòhk] in the original Thai was very much on purpose. Otherwise they could have just had the characters say โกหก [goh-hòk] (= to lie) or some other word at some point too. But no, they kept (and keep) saying หลอก [lòhk] while the subs are all over the place (from "made someone do something" to "lying" to "fooling someone" etc. etc. -> these are just the ones from the top of my head). The translation student in me wants to scream. I might turn this into my master's thesis.

Anyway, now that this rant is out of the way, let's continue: So Style explicitly tells Fadel he won't be หลอก [lòhk]-ing him anymore and if he does end up doing it again, then Fadel is free to kill him together with his entire family. Fadel is outraged: "You're selling your whole family out for this? And you said you're a family man." And here's the literal translation, for those who are interested (it doesn't really change much):

You're selling your relatives to me? นี่มึงขายญาติให้กูเลยนะ [nîi - mueng - kăai - yâat - hâi - guu - loiie - ná] [interjection] - you - sell - relatives - to - me - [particle] - [particle] But you said you love your family, didn't you? ไหนมึงบอกว่ามึงรักครอบครัวไม่ใช่หรอ [năi - mueng - bòhk wâa - mueng - rák - krôp-kruua - mâi châi - rŏh] but - you - said that - you - love - family - no - ?

Style doesn't see a problem: "Because I know for a fact that I won't ever lie to you again." And yes, he does repeat the word หลอก [lòhk], thanks for asking. In fact, his wording is actually almost the same as earlier:

Well, I'm confident that I definitely won't deceive you again. ก็กูมั่นใจไงว่ากูจะไม่หลอกมึงอีกแน่นอน [gôh - guu - mân-jai - ngai - wâa - guu - jà - mâi - lòhk - mueng - ìik - nâe-non] well - I - (be) certain, confident - [particle] - that - I - will - not - trick, deceive - you - again - definitely, for sure

But Fadel, on top of being hurt that he was หลอก [lòhk]-ed by Style, he is now also offended that he is worth only a car to Style and sasses Style about it: "From what you did to me, I just hope that car's a real beauty." And it's actually kinda funny, because Style agreed to make Fadel his boyfriend, but it's been how many episodes since they've started dating?? And we have yet to see Style with said car. In fact, the only time that he went to Kant to claim the car was when he happily bragged about Fadel being his boyfriend the moment he started dating him many episodes ago, but then Kant told him about Fadel's real occupation and Style was like fuck that, keep your car, I'm out. And even when he agreed to stay with Fadel anyway, Style still didn't leave with the car. In fact, as of episode 6 it was Kant who was still in possession of the car, despite Style and Fadel being head over heels in love by that point (I've reached image limit, but we see Kant and Bison arrive at the bowling alley in that car at the end of episode 6 part 1). Style may have gone into it for the car, but he never actually took the car and by now the car is long forgotten. I didn't go and check, but as far as I remember Style hasn't even brought the car up to Kant ever since that scene in episode 4 where he initially came to claim it. At this point, Style would much rather have Fadel than the car anyway.

Fadel doesn't know any of that, of course. He doesn't know that Style isn't even in possession of the car (for now). And so Fadel drops a bitchy comment about it. Style's eyes widen and he immediately knows that Kant must have told Fadel. Fadel confirms and yells at him: "How are you gonna defend yourself now?" Shit. Style hadn't prepared for that conversation before he made his way down to the beach. Style hesitates a bit as he searches for words and the best way to defend himself without pissing Fadel off even more and making him run away again. Style's voice sounds a little stressed when he tells Fadel that it was only in the beginning that he wasn't being sincere. Fadel stares at him wordlessly. When Style continues to say "But after spending time with you" the stress from just now is gone and when he says "I've changed" his voice is very sincere and there's also an urgency that comes with it. Style really means what he says and it's important to him that Fadel believes him, too. But Fadel just looks away. So Style continues: "I never let anyone get the better of me. But for you, I'd do it again and again. I think we get along well." Now let me just share the Thai wording again:

Usually, I never lose to anyone. ปกติกูไม่เคยแพ้ใครนะ [bpòk-gà-dtì - guu - mâi koiie - páe - krai - ná] usually - I - never - lose (to) - anyone - [particle] But I have a soft spot for you. แต่กูแพ้ทางมึงว่ะ [dtàe - guu - páe taang - mueng - wâ] but - I - have a soft/weak spot for - you - [particle] I think we can have a life together. กูว่าเราสองคนอยู่ด้วยกันได้ [guu - wâa - rao sŏng kon - yùu - dûuay gan - dâai] I - think - the two of us - be, live - together - can, be able to

(Side note: there's a word play in the first and second line: to lose = แพ้ [páe] vs. to have a soft/weak spot = แพ้ทาง [páe taang])

Style uses the word แพ้ [páe] here, which means "to lose" or "to be defeated". And where have we heard Style use that word before? In episode 4, when Fadel drags him out of the Rise Up meeting and into the hallway. Once in the hallway, Style says: "I don't take defeats." And then we actually heard something similar again in episode 5 when Fadel tells Style "A guy like me doesn't know how to accept defeat" during their go-kart date. And now here Style is, standing in front of Fadel, telling him Fine. You win. I lose. And gladly so, if it means I get to have you in my life. Because he thinks they can be together. Style wants that and he's serious about it. Fadel looks away and sighs. So Style continues talking. And I'm just gonna share the literal translation again, not because it really makes any difference in meaning, but because I think some of you might be curious:

The thing I can do now is to convince you that I will be by your side. สิ่งที่กูทำได้ตอนนี้อ่ะ ก็คือพูดให้มึงเชื่อมั่นว่ากูจะอยู่ข้างมึง [sìng - tîi - guu - tam dâai - dton-níi - àh • gôh keu - pûut hâi mueng chêuua-mân - wâa - guu - jà - yùu - kâang mueng] thing - that - I - can do - now - [particle] • is - convince you - that - I - will - be - your side Official subs: The only thing I can do right now is promise you that I'll be by your side. But if you give me a chance แต่ถ้ามึงให้โอกาสกูอ่ะ [dtàe - tâa - mueng - hâi - oh-gàat - guu - àh] but - if - you - give - chance - me - [particle] Official subs: But if you give me a chance I will show you that I'm serious. กูจะทำให้มึงเห็นว่ากูเอาจริง [guu - jà - tam hâi - mueng - hĕn - wâa - guu - ao jing] I - will - make that - you - see - that - I - serious Official subs: I can show you I mean every word.

Fadel, who looked back at Style when he talked about being at Fadel's side, now looks away again and sighs for a second time. He remains stubborn. But Style won't be discouraged. He's made the decision to try getting through to Fadel once more and so he's on a mission now. "You don't believe me? Fine." Stupidly stubborn guys require stupidly silly methods. And at this point I really wanna share @ginnymoonbeam's words on this post:

You know when you've been fighting about something for a long time and eventually you get to a point where you know the other person has won, but you're too stubborn to just give up your position? That's Fadel. Everyone knows he isn't going to kill Style, that he loves Style, that he dragged him on this road trip because he wants to be with Style. He knows it too, but he's climbed on this hill-to-die-on and can't see his way down. Style's dramatic little stunt gives him a way to climb down. He has to get in the water because Style is the one being stubborn and unreasonable. It's gotta be a scene with a sense of urgency to break through that last resistance, but it also has to be something deeply stupid, because a genuine dangerous crisis takes his focus elsewhere. Fortunately manufacturing a deeply stupid emergency situation is right in Style's lane.

If Fadel wants to remain on that hill, then Style will just have to walk straight into the ocean. And he'll just keep walking until Fadel climbs down from that hill and gives him a chance after all. Even if Fadel's mirror last episode said that bad people don't deserve chances. And Style clearly is bad people for tricking Fadel into loving him and being crazy about him and then betraying him. And according to Fadel's mirror people who trick others into loving them all deserve to die. So instead of having Fadel drown him, Style will just willingly go drown himself in the ocean. He deserves to die for tricking Fadel after all. And so Style walks on. But suddenly Fadel starts getting stressed. He shouts after Style that his wound is going to get infected and but Style is determined to show just how serious he is: "And I will die of that, too!" Style is bad people and Style deserves to die for his sins and so Style will drown himself in the ocean and let the infected wound kill him on top of that. For love. Style walks and walks and makes a big show out of it and his injury gets closer and closer to the water and Fadel gets more and more stressed until he breaks after all: "Fine! I'll give you a chance." Style smiles for a moment, before he raises his eyebrows like Oh, is that so? and questions Fadel: "Really?"

Style knows he's won now, but the thing is that Fadel was reeeally stubborn for a reeeally long time and Style reeeally had to work for Fadel to utter the words "I'll give you a chance". And so Style decides drag it out a little longer. I think he partly does it to to playfully mess with Fadel a bit, partly simply just to be a little shit and give Fadel a bit of a taste of his own medicine, and also partly because just as much as Fadel needed to see proof of Style's sincerity, Style also wants to see some proof that Fadel really means it when he says he'll give Style a chance. After all, Style's heart is on the line here, too. And there's only so much rejection a man in love can take. Style doesn't want that chance if Fadel is just gonna turn around and go back to making death threats again as soon as Style is back out of the water. And so instead of walking back to land, Style calls out "Nah, I’m gone. There’s no way you mean it." And let me just–

You're tricking me for sure. มึงหลอกกูแน่ [mueng - lòhk - guu - nâe] you - trick, deceive - me - for sure Official subs: There's no way you mean it.

Yup. Our favorite word is back. Fadel has repeatedly thrown it into Style's face that Style tricked him and now Style is turning Fadel's words back around on him. And it's not in a malicious way, no, Style is affectionately teasing Fadel with it and also being a bit of a little shit and also, as I just said, I do think Style is also lowkey worried that Fadel is in fact just tricking him. And I do think Style wants to confirm that this is not the case. By the way, I'm not sure Style's tease even registered in Fadel's brain, because he's so stressed and he's already moving to walk into the water the moment the words "I'm gone" are out of Style's mouth. As Fadel walks up to him in the water, Style watches him with a happy, expectant expression on his face. That expression turns serious as Fadel approaches him.

Style's behavior just now as he was walking into the ocean was very playful, very silly in order to get Fadel to loosen up and to lose his grumpiness a bit and to get Fadel to climb down from his hill of stubbornness. But what he has to say Fadel is actually very serious: "I promise you that, from now on, you'll only see the 100% real me." I think this is a big relief for Style, because we saw how much he was longing to be able to talk freely about everything with Fadel as far back as episodes 5 and 6. Fadel says "Besides work, I've been real to you from day one" and Style just looks at him without replying, because Fadel is kind of right. Although, it's not like Style could just say it, because apart from the deal with the car, the whole being a police snitch was Kant's thing, not Style's and so it was Kant's secret to spill. And it's not like Style could have just told Fadel Kant's secret, because Kant would have been a dead man right there and then. Style got as close as he could to spilling the secret without actually spilling it and I think especially that night at the rock concert Style would have like nothing more than to come clean and to stop Fadel from going on that mission, but it would have been at the cost of Kant's life and only two scenes ago we saw that Style will not have that.

As much as Style was Style for walking into the ocean just like that, Fadel is also Fadel and of course can't let this go without making another threat: "If you don't stay true to me after this, you'll find out how I deal with liars."

If you aren't real with me after this, you better watch out. หลังจากเนี้ยถ้ามึงไม่เรียลกับกู มึงเจอดีแน่ [lăng jàak - níia - tâa - mueng - mâi - riial - gàp - guu • mueng - jer - dii - nâe] after - this - if - you - not - real - with - me • you - meet - good - for sure

Bye the way, I'm not sure how obvious it is to non-Thai speakers, but whenever they talk about "being real" they actually use the English word "real". And I just wanted to put the Thai wording here, because Fadel also uses the anglicism "real" here when the subs talk about "staying true". Also, his threat is way less elaborate. Literally, the threat translates to something like "to meet good" (like, you'll meet something good as in something bad will happen to you).

Style doesn't talk back. He stays quiet. And I think it's because at this point there isn't really a lot he can say. It's true that he hadn't been real with Fadel and so he quietly accepts his fate. Style then also huffs a little and looks at Fadel fondly. Because even if Fadel just threatened him again, it still implied that they really will have a "from now on" together. And that makes Style happy. That's exactly what he just walked into the ocean for. After a moment, Fadel prompts Style to get out of the water before his wound gets infected. And now Style starts talking back again and teases Fadel: "Even when you're threatening me, you're worried about me."

And here I wanna share the literal wording again, because it reminds me of some other scenes. And let me just explain this one word before I do... So where the subs say "threatening", Style uses the word โหด [hòht] which is a word I actually discussed with my Thai friend after episode 7 and he explained that it can be translated in a few different ways depending on context, but usually it means "cruel" or "aggressive" or "brutal". I'm gonna go with "harsh" as a translation to have some consistency, because I feel like this word could work for all the lines that I'm about to drop.

In episode 4, when Style showed up in the kitchen he told Fadel:

No matter how harsh you are, I'm still hooked on you. มึงโหดแค่ไหนอ่ะ กูก็ยังติดใจมึงอยู่ดี [mueng - hòht - kâe năi - àh • guu - gôh - yang - dtìt-jai - mueng - yùu dee] you - harsh - how much - [particle] • I - [sentence link] - still - hooked - you - anyway Official subs: It doesn't matter how scary you are, I'm still hooked.

Then, in episode 7 when Fadel surprise attacked Style with a shower of kisses at the garage, Fadel had following complaint to Style:

When I'm sweet, you don't like it. ตอนกูหวานมึงก็ไม่ชอบ [dton - guu - wăan - mueng - gôr - mâi - chôp] when - I - sweet - you - [sentence link] - not - like Official subs: You don't like me being nice. When I'm harsh, you still scold me. ตอนกูโหดมึงก็ด่ากู [dton - guu - hòht - mueng - gôr - dàa - guu] when - I - harsh - you - [sentence link] - scold - me Official subs: You complain when I'm cold.

Now in episode 9, Style's words are very reminiscent of that complaint:

Even when you're this harsh, you're still sweet with me. นี่ขนาดโหดนะเนี่ย ยังหวานกับกูเลย [nîi - kà-nàat hòht - ná - nîia • yang - wăan - gàp - guu - loiie] [interjection] - this harsh - [particle] - [particle] • still - sweet - with - me - [particle] Official subs: Even when you're threatening me, you're worried about me.

When Style comments "How adorable", he's still teasing Fadel, but you can also clearly see just how delighted and happy he is that Fadel really seems to mean it when he says he'll give Style a chance after all. He looks at Fadel with the brightest smile. But Fadel has spent a lot of time being angry and hurt and grumpy and stubborn and so he isn't gonna be cheesy from one second to the next. And so he speaks out another (very empty, almost joking) threat as he warns Style he can be worse. "You want that?" Style says no. But if Fadel is already letting him put in requests, then Style wants Fadel to use only his sweet side.

From now on I want you to use only your sweet side. ต่อไปนี้กูอยากให้มึงใช้แต่ด้านหวาน [dtòh bpai níi - guu - yàak - hâi - mueng - chái - dtàe - dâan wăan] from now on - I - want - that - you - use - only - sweet side Official subs: From now on, I just want to see you being lovey-dovey.

This actually makes Fadel laugh a bit and ask for clarification and when he looks at Style after that, his face is suddenly so much softer. Style explains: "In a situation like this, if we weren't fighting, what would you like to do to me?" He smiles at Fadel, his face expectant and mixed with almost a sort of innocence like Oh, this is totally not an implicit request for you to kiss me and it also has a bit of a challenging flair like Do you dare to kiss me? The message reaches Fadel loud and clear. He dares. As long as Style is alive he'd make Fadel kiss him again. And Style did. Fadel is kissing him. By Fadel's own choice. Style left it entirely up to him, didn't force Fadel to kiss him, didn't get physically close to him, didn't try to seduce him in any way, didn't even explicitly say the words "kiss me" out loud. In fact, Style asked "What would you like to do to me?" and Fadel could really have chosen to do anything, but what Fadel wanted to do was to kiss Style. Style may have said earlier that he'd lose to Fadel, but is Style really losing here with Fadel back at his side?

Now. The eyes. Let me address the eyes, because I've seen talk about it. Honestly, the way Style's eye keep fluttering open kinda reminds me of what I wrote about the ep6 rock concert kiss and forehead touch in my ep6 meta:

They seal that promise with a kiss. And it's interesting, because Style doesn't immediately close his eyes when Fadel goes to kiss him but instead looks at him for a moment longer. And then his eyes keep fluttering open for a moment. It's almost as if he can't tear his eyes away from Fadel, as if he can't help but use every opportunity to look at Fadel, to catch every last glimpse of Fadel while he still has the opportunity to do so. They break apart and Fadel tells Style that he's (also) very happy tonight and Style (re)confirms his own happiness. They lean their foreheads against each other. And again, Style can't really close his eyes and fully sink into the moment the way Fadel can. It's like he tries to close his eyes but they keep fluttering open a second later because he just can't keep his eyes away from Fadel, is compelled to keep looking at him while he still can, while Fadel is still right there with him. And even when they break away from each other and turn to look out of the window towards the stage, it takes Style a couple of seconds to tear his eyes away from Fadel, who is already looking elsewhere.

Except now it's the polar opposite energy. Back at the concert, it was the end for Style. Now in the water it's a (new) beginning. Back at the concert it was like Style had to savor every last look at Fadel that he could get before it was too late. Now in the water it again feels like Style just can't stop looking at Fadel, but for a different reason. I think it's undeniable that Style is deeply in love with Fadel. But Fadel started pushing him away from the moment Bison was stabbed and at first Style didn't even know what the fuck was happening, especially with how weirdly affectionate Fadel had been the day before. And from then on Fadel has just kept pushing Style away again and again, outright tried to murder him even, and then just kept refusing Style, kept refusing to believe Style no matter how much Style tried to show him just how serious he was about his feelings for Fadel and how serious he was about their relationship. Fadel was pushing Style away so much that even Style, our beacon of optimism and hope, believer in the power of love, even he was starting to get discouraged that Fadel would ever take him back. But now Fadel is here, kissing him again. Style can't believe his eyes and it's like he has to keep looking at Fadel to check that he's really not dreaming, that Fadel really is here, standing in front of him, kissing him. It's the relief that he is finally getting his Fadel back which makes him unable to stop looking at Fadel to make sure it's real.

And another aspect my mom actually mentioned when I was talking to her about this scene was that Style is also checking on Fadel. I don't remember her reasoning, but for me personally it's that Fadel has been very hot-and-cold lately, jumping from saving Style's life to pushing him away again and threatening him in the very next moment. And as I mentioned above, Fadel is not the only one with a heart that can get hurt. Style is also human, Style also has a heart, Style can also get hurt. Even if it may not seem like it through his easy-going, unserious, always optimistic personality. Style is human and Style isn't the only one here between the two of them who did something hurtful to the other. And so I think part of the reason why Style's eyes keep fluttering open is to check Fadel's reactions. Because just because Fadel is in hot-mode right now, doesn't mean he won't jump right back into cold-mode from one second to the next. And so Style has to keep checking so that he's prepared for it if it happens again, because I'm not sure Style's heart could handle it if Fadel suddenly pushed him away again now without a warning. It would be like that time Fadel dumped him in the kitchen back in episode 4, except this time Style would probably be even more hurt than back then, because now he is undeniably irrevocably deeply in love with Fadel. If Fadel pushed him away again now I think that would actually break Style for real.

But Fadel doesn't. They break apart and Fadel nuzzles his face into Style's neck for a moment (definitely kissing it) and then they lean their foreheads against each other for a while. Together again at last.

No. 8: Lore

They're back in the room and Fadel is about to finish renewing Style's bandages after their little swim in the ocean. Fadel tells Style not to do something like this again. Style smiles and says "But I gotta pull some dramatic stunt for someone like you." Fadel huffs in response but is otherwise very focused on the bandages and doesn't reply. Now that they're finally one on one again and Style is also no longer dying of pain, he uses the chance to finally, albeit hesitantly, ask about the guy on the photo in the car. One could think that Style asks out of jealousy, but to be honest, I don't think so. As I mentioned in the beginning of this meta, I think he'd have a gut feeling if that guy was someone who could actually be a potential rival. Also, there's a chance that the person on the photo was also just a family member or something, not necessarily someone Fadel was romantically involved with. Besides, Fadel did tell him that he didn't have any past lovers and that he didn't want a lover in the first place to avoid getting anyone in trouble. So I think rather than out of jealousy, Style asks out of curiosity and genuine care. Fadel has shared next to nothing about his past, but Style wants to know. His voice is full of concern, but not because he feels threatened by the guy in the photo. Instead it's genuine worry for Fadel. Style hesitates to ask and seems almost a little nervous, as if he's scared that this question will cause Fadel to shut him out again.

Fadel stares at Style for quite a long moment, then goes back to the bandage without answering Style's question. Style immediately says "I'm sorry for prying. If you don't want to tell me, I understand" and that cements it even more for me that Style isn't asking out of jealousy. Because I think if he was jealous, he'd try to find out more. I don't think he'd be all that chill with Fadel not answering his question. No, I think Style's question is him cautiously trying to learn more about Fadel's past, but Style will also respect Fadel's boundaries if Fadel isn't ready to talk about it. Especially since last time Style insisted on Fadel opening up about his past, Fadel dropped that his parents were shot dead. So when Fadel doesn't answer, Style is quick to let him know that he won't be prying this time and that Fadel doesn't have to talk if he doesn't want to. And it's only then that Fadel makes the decision to open up after all. That guy is his ex. This new information has Style a little speechless as it dawns on him that Fadel lied about not having had a boyfriend before.

Once Style has processed this, he continues to ask how long Fadel had been dating this guy for and the reason why they broke up. And again, I don't think Style is bothered by the fact that Fadel does have an ex. There is so much worry and care in his voice as well as on his face while he talks and listens to Fadel. He genuinely cares to know about Fadel's past. And Fadel shares willingly and without any more hesitation: They were gonna start a life together but then the guy disappeared from one day to the other. Fadel jokes "Maybe he was scared of me, thinking I'd kill him if he broke up with me" and Style huffs and smiles a little, but that smile doesn't really reach his eyes.

Style doesn't think the joke is all that funny. He looks at Fadel fondly, but I think he also really feels for him. He feels bad for him for getting dumped like that and feels sad that Fadel thinks his past lover might have been scared of him, so terrified even that he didn't even want to confront him. And we know the latter part specifically really gets to Style, because the next thing he does is that he grabs Fadel's hand and tells him "I'm not scared of you". And Style is about to continue that sentence, but for a moment he just lets this part stand on its own, lets Fadel process that first before he goes on. Style isn't afraid of Fadel and it's important to him that Fadel knows that. Style continues to say that he hasn't been scared of Fadel since he saved the woman at the bowling alley and I call bullshit on that. I think Style stopped being afraid of Fadel by the end of episode 5 and I wrote 12k words about it. However, I do think the bowling alley incident cemented what Style was saying about Fadel being a good person last episode in the bathtub. Style ends with "You risked your life for a total stranger. I know I'm in love with the right man." And let me just...

A person who risks their own life for someone they don't even know. คนที่เอาชีวิตตัวเองไปเสี่ยงเพื่อคนที่ไม่รู้จักด้วยซ้ำ​ [kon - tîi - ao - chee-wít dtuua eng - bpai - sìiang - pêuua - kon - tîi - mâi - rúu-jàk - dûuay sám] person - that - take - one's own life - go - risk - for - person - that - not - know - even I love the right person. กูรักถูกคนแล้วละ [guu - rák - tùuk - kon - láew - lá] I - love - right - person - already - [particle]

I do much prefer the phrasing of "I love the right person", because it's not just a state of being, but it's something that Style actively does, is actively doing, has actively been doing, actively chooses to do over and over again.

Style's words really hit Fadel. And I think this time, he finally fully believes them, finally lets himself fully believe them. Fadel goes through quite the emotional journey, then grabs Style's arm and puts it over him as he lays his head in Style's lap. Fadel finally gets to be a child seeking comfort. Style's free hand immediately finds Fadel's head to stroke him. At one point Style smiles a little and shakes his head, looking a bit amused.

It's my personal headcanon that in this moment Style is remembering Bison's words about Fadel being all rough on the outside, but actually being a huge softie inside and is laughing to himself about how it's true. He currently has a very soft (and vulnerable) Fadel in his lap after all he roughness that Fadel put him through. They continue to stay like this until the end of the scene.

No. 9: Peace, Joy, Egg Cake

Allow me to bulk the last few scenes into one last section and allow me to mostly just skip over them a bit, since there isn't all that much plot happening here and it's more about the characters getting to be a little happy again at the end of this story arc before we go into the last bit (can you tell I'm just trying to get this meta done asap so I can hopefully drop it before ep10 lmao).

We got our OT4 happily playing frisbee in the water and it makes me laugh how Style's wound getting infected apparently isn't the same big problem anymore as it was the night before. It also makes me laugh how Style is apparently also perfectly capable of lifting an entire human man with that injured arm of his. I remember this one time a couple of years ago where I scraped open my entire leg and I couldn't walk on it for at least a week without being in pain, so like. Good on your pain tolerance @ Style, I guess. Same thing with Bison and his stab wound. And Fadel's sprained arm has magically healed as well, apparently. Not to mention Kant with his ocean trauma having absolutely no problem letting loose in the ocean water. This show is so unserious, I love it.

After they're done playing in the water, they sit on the shore and have a conversation about staying on the island, except Fadel reminds Bison that they still have one last job to do. Although Fadel then also says "Once we wrap up the last mission, we can go anywhere and do anything. Not sure if they'd come with us, though." For the last sentence, Fadel turns his head and says it directly into Style's face. This statement was 100000% directed at Style and Style alone, not Kant. Style stares at Fadel for a moment and then makes a face like My love, do you really even need to ask after I've followed you all the way here?

Then he says "Just tell me where, and I'll go with you." and I shake my hands at the writers in disappointment, because this would have been THE opportunity to bring back "hitman teerak". Especially because the wording is also kind of similar.

Episode 7: Tell me where you wanna go na krub, hitman-teerak. มึงอยากไปไหนอ่ะ บอกกูมาเลยนะครับนักฆ่าที่รัก [mueng - yàak - bpai - năi - àh • bòhk guu maa - loiie - ná - kráp - nák-kâa - tîi-rák] you - want - go - where - [particle] • tell me - [particle] na - krub - hitman - teerak Official subs: I'll drive you where you want me to go, my dear hitman. Episode 9: Tell me where you're going. I'm all ready to go. จะไปที่ไหนก็บอก กูพร้อมไปอยู่ละ [jà - bpai - tîi năi - gôh - bòhk • guu - próm - bpai - yùu - lá] will - go - where - [sentence link] - tell • I - ready- go - [auxillary verb] - [particle] Official subs: Just tell me where, and I'll go with you.

Please tell me, does the episode 9 sentence not scream for a "hitman teerak" drop? Does it not look a little incomplete?

Anyway, Style continues to say a very Style thing and Fadel laughs. This has Kant quite impressed. I have not gone back and checked if Kant is right about never having seen Fadel laugh, but I'm just gonna assume it's true. The only scene that I can think of where Kant may have seen Fadel laugh is at the bowling alley in episode 5, but Kant would have had to be looking at Fadel to see actually see that. Also let me just...

Please, the way Style is smiling so brightly at Fadel. He's so over the moon to have his Fadel back. With everyone being so happy and cute it just has me very worried about what next episode might have in store for them, especially considering the preview (we're not gonna have any more injuries on this show, are we? 🥺🙏).

As for Style's mood in the scene with everyone on the boat on the way back to land, I'm just gonna leave Joong's tweet here...

(Overview | Ep1+2 | Ep3 | Ep4 | Ep5 | Ep6 | Ep7 | Ep8)

[phopollo]

Could we also get back stories for Electra and the components and their families?

Love your art❣️❣️❣️

Hoo boy, okay, time to avoid putting off this answer akdbskdje

None of them have like.... "simple" backstories, but talking about the electrics and their backstories in the cartooniverse is definitely the most complicated, because they all tie back to Electra and/or Purse and Krupp. So! I'll start with them!

Another big long post, im so sorry akfnskd

Purse & Krupp

Even though I'm talking about them together, Purse & Krupp didn't know each other or even about each other's existences before being hired to work together. Purse had participated in some shadier money management activities, most of which was under the table work. Trying to get out of that, he applied for a job with a large and well known company and production line, seeking a personal money manager/accountant, legal advisor, and PR rep. Not all the same job for the same person, for the new face of the company. But Purse, feeling cheeky, applied for all three job positions. And then proceeded to land all three of them. Krupp, meanwhile, wasn't anything or anyone special or of note. As an armaments truck, he'd worked part time with public security and part time shuttling things said public security needed back and forth. He was simply looking for a raise, and seeing that this big large company was looking for personal security for the new face of the company, applied, not expecting to get the job. Purse and Krupp met perhaps a week before they met Electra and were given an opportunity to bsck out, as they were still in production when they were hired. Neither Purse or Krupp really processed what their new boss not even being fully built yet meant outside of "Oh, they might be a little naive." (Welcome to fatherhood you two!)

Electra

Electra was factory built specifically for and by the mentioned company that Purse and Krupp were hired by. They had been powered on for perhaps three hours before immediately being shoved in to Purse and Krupp's arms, and then in to their new job. Their entire purpose was to be a pretty face and be convincing for people to want to do business with their company. They didn't work on a line, and they didn't race. Occasionally, they did something more akin to shows, but... never anything that gave them that thrill they'd been seeking. After about 2 years, they made a convincing enough argument to their company to be allowed to participate in a single race-- a decision that the company would later regret, because they'd continue to make arguements to keep entering in races, which they'd always win. Another two years later (so roughly 4 years old total), Electra decided to break off from their parent company to go out on their own in a solo career for racing, having felt so drawn to and called by it. They took Purse and Krupp with them when they did, leaving their company to have to scramble for a new face and employees all over again. Here's some bonus babylectra & their gay dads loyal employees content (both while company owned and on their own)

Wrench

I say this so affectionately, Wrench was a freaky little girl. She was surrogate built for her demolition truck parents, and grew up literally right next to a scrap yard, where she would very happily go play as a kid. She really really liked to take things apart and try to figure out how they worked. Her parents, being demolition trucks who's jobs were also to take things apart, were supportive if not a little concerned by how methodical she was by it, but hey, they guess she's taking an interest in the fsmily business? But one day, while doing her thing and taking scraps apart, she broke her finger and needed to be taken to see a repair truck. And that totally blew her mind. Being able to put things back together?? Oh she NEEDED to be able to do that. She HAD to know how things worked AND be able to make them work. So! Wrench started doing her research to become a repair truck immediately (much to her parents concerned support), despite being far too young to actually begin training. By the time she actually got to her repair training, she was extremely knowledgeable (and morbid-) about diesel and steam engines, as there was so much information out in the world about them. But she was fascinated by the lack of information she could find on electric engines-- so new, constantly changing.... there weren't any experts in her or any of her neighboring yards. So of course, she decided that thats what she wanted to specialize in for repairs, despite not many electric engines passing through her station. (The scrap yard became her best friend during this time.) It was difficult after she became a fully certified repair truck though, due to that lack of electrics passing through her yard and not having the heart to apply for a transfer. She wasn't taken seriously, and frequently wasn't fetched for the few electrics that did need repairs, as the other repair trucks frequently just went ahead and fixed whatever little problem it was-- screw needing tightening, plating reaplications, etc etc. One day, she was called out to one of her neighboring stations though, as there had been a crash on the tracks involving an electric engine-- Electra. When she arrived, rather than just fixing whatever problem was caused by the crash, she also identified and fixed long standing problems they didn't even know they'd had, most of which caused by non electric specialized repair trucks assuming they could fix something minor. She was offered a job as their personal repair truck before she even finished her work that day. Here's a little baby Wrench just starting her repair training & Wrench the day she was hired. She became the first component they'd actually chosen for themself.

Volta

Volta grew up in a bit of a smaller, more conservative yard. The old school traditional freight and coach roles and presentations were more prevelant. So of course, when Volta, as a freight car, started expressing and experimenting with self expression that was viewed as traditionally "more coach-like," caring more for his hair and getting interested in makeup and fashion, he wasn't exactly popular with his peers. Considered too coach-like to get on with the freight, and the coaches unable to see past him being freight and get along. It was rough for the little dude, turning him a bit jaded and snarky at a young age, just out of tje need tor a defense mechanism. It never stopped him, but the constant isolation and judgement did beat him down quite a bit as he made it to adulthood. Meeting Electra, Purse, Krupp, and Wrench was pure coincidence. They were simply passing through a station that was part of his work route at the same time that he was. And he was absolutely enamored with them. They were the first rolling stock he'd seen who's expression of self was so similar to his, how could be not stare? Purse was the one to approach Volta. He wanted to know what shade and brand he used for his eye makeup, and if he thought it would work for Electra. Volta, trying desperately to be more interesting and keep these people talking to him, cracked a joke that they'd have to pay him for a consultation. To his shock, Purse agreed and asked him about prices and appointment times. When Electra & co actually showed up for the consultation, he absolutely faked it until he made it and they were happy with the result. He felt so normal for the first time ever talking to them, that when Electra & co went to leave, he extremely impulsively asked for a job. It was mortifying-- the most embarassing desperate moment of his entire life. Especially when Electra said no. But a moment of weakness and desperation, because several months later Electra returned to offer him a job, looking for a stylist and knowing he was interested. Bonus of of course, baby Volta & Volta the day he was hired

Joule

You know the saying "it takes a village?" Replace "village" eith "circus," and say hello to literally Joule. She wae built as an animal car in a circus train, and while even though not everyone was technically her family, that didn't matter because they all behaved like her family. It was generally an extremely positive environment to grow up in. The obvious downsides to being a performer from a young age and having such a large family of course reared their heads, but generally speaking, she wouldn't say she had a bad childhood. She was working and participating in acts before she hit double digits, but... well there wasn't exactly a lack of animal cars, and in her early teen years began to feel like it wouldn't really matter of she were there or not. She isn't really sure what sparked her interest-- perhaps it was just being different from what she was used to-- but she eventually took interest in the art of fire eating. Researching in to that took her down the road of pyrotechnics, and before she knew it, Joule was converting in to a dynamite truck and switching acts. And she loved it. She loved it for a really long time. She still does, actually, but... well. After awhile, it just made her... tired. Being in front of an audience like that was tiring. After shows, she'd always immediately go check and lock and undo everything that if anything went wrong could make everything brust into flames, and by the time she was done, most of the guests who'd stay to chat were already gone or on their way out. Never talking to anyone but her family and doing the same things every day was just... exhausting. Which is why when she returned from her checks after a show one day and found some massihe blue freak and their entourage waiting to talk to her specifically, who hadn't spoken to anyone else, it was extreme pleasantly surprising. More so when they'd ask her challenging questions about her job and hypotheticals about how she'd do something. And even more so when they'd keep coming back. She'd begun to find the most exciting part about performing was trying to spot them in the crowd and speaking with them afterwards, even if the conversations quickly derailed. It hadn't taken long for her to learn that this massive blue freak was a racer-- Electra-- but it took quite awhile for her schedule to line up to go watch them the way they'd kept coming to see her. It was only fair, wasn't it? But when Joule showed up, the atmosphere was so.... familiar, and yet.... different. It was exciting. And the race was exciting. The idea of going that fast was so alluring. She knew she'd want to get more involved in the racing scene. And watching Electra race? They were so cool and hot and powerful, and-- just-- woah. They lived like this? They just went to different places, and they didn't have a set routine when they performed? Extremely enticing. And when Electra saw her in the crowd and waved to her? And then immediately approached her after winning? Insane. It made Joule feel more seen than she had in her entire life. She didn't hesitate in the slightest when they offered her a job. And as per usual, bonus baby Joule & Joule the day she was hired

Killerwatt

Killerwatt's story doesn't actually begin with him-- he doesn't actually show up until late. It actually starts about 2 years before he's built, when Purse and Krupp start to disagree with some of the choices Electra had been making. At first, they kept their mouths shut. It wasn't frequent. They weren't decisions that were big deals. But the more time went on, the bigger deals they were, and eventually, they couldn't keep their mouths shut about it. It started to get bad, with frequent argurments and disagreements, and tension hanging over everyone. Now, with Electra as their own company, their own business, they began to wonder if they really needed Purse and Krupp. They had long since learned to mange their own bank accounts and the legalities of things, and Volta and Joule had honestly taken up most of the social media managing that Purse was supposed to be doing. And fans were respectful-- there hadn't been any threats made other than with fellow racers, of which, Electra could easily handle themself. What was Krupp even doing? But-- sentimentality kept them from firing them. About five months prior to Killerwatt's building, Electra finally decided and told Purse and Krupp that they wouldn't be renewing their contracts. And when asked if they were being replaced, grew extremely concerned that Electra didn't plan to at least replace Krupp. The only reason Electra thought he wasn't doing anything was because he was good enough at his job that the security details never reached them. Purse and Krupp were so undeniably attached to Electra after almost 10 years together, and they were extremely nervous about leaving them with no protection. So the two of them formed a plan. About two weeks before their contracts ended, having waited and timed things as last second as they could so Electra wouldn't notice until after they were gone and it was too late, and while it was still legal due to some fun loopholes Purse found, the two of them pushed through a commission order to a factory. A commission... specifically for a security truck for a Electra. And their plan worked. Electra got the email two weeks after Purse and Krupp left that their security truck would be ready in about a week, and did they want to come choose from the batch themself, or have one randomly selected and sent out to them? (They learned a very hard lesson to check their bank account more frequently that day.) So Electra, after tweaking out over Purse and Krupp spending their money, and on a security truck that they did not want, decided that-- well they wouldn't let this all be a total waste. And it wouldn't be fair for someone to be built to do something and not even have the chance to, they'd offer the smallest timedrame contract they could. So they showed up about two days after the batch had been finished and had time to be told what to expect, as almost all factory built rolling stock get. And... well, none of them really stood out. They were all so well trained in security already that there really wasn't anything that made any of them stand out, and, honestly, Electra was on the verge of just hiring whichever one they thought would clean up best and look good next to the rest of the components. But-- hold on, I actually have a visual for this moment

And I fear then both of their faces were sealed in that moment. Electra had to have this one. He was the only one looking at and following them. And-- well even if he wouldn't be doing much of anything, how could they possibly hire a security truck who wouldn't keep their eyes on them and their safety?? It's now been 3 years, and Electra has since learned his name is Killerwatt, and this was the best hiring decision they could have ever made. Bonus Babywatt doodle, of course, just to show off his pretty curls better

[yesimwriting]

omg irl (personally) i would get so fed up with armand like... nothing's ever straightforward with you... there he goesss with his ulterior motives.

I love how you describe Louis' worry in the latest chapter, because as anon requested, it is the crashout of all crashouts BUT its so sublty written and kept between the lines (big kudos to you) because Louis is not burning and killing 20% of the vampiric population like he did in paris BUT there are hints/implication present that he absolutely would do something much worse to protect and/or avenge bestie reader.

And it really shows during the part after the phonecall when he's thinking to himself. Him repeating Josh's name like a mantra??? Girl his last victim was in the year 2000 but im sure he's willing make sure josh will never use both of his wrists to operate a car ever again lmao. Also, being an english speaking foreigner, i'm usually able to keep my accent at bay but i know damn well that Nola accent was HEARD through that damn phone. This reminds me of that older brother vibe ask of yours you wrote before. We all know he booked a flight arriving after sunset so he can personally drive and pick her up from the airport. Also stand as close as possible by the arrivals so she doesn't need to carry her luggage with a broken wrist.

His worry over the medication that makes her drowsy??? Omg Louis loves her so much its sickening what the hell. I need to see Daniel catching bestie in 4k, casually snoozing peacefully with Louis bc she feels so safe and i need daniel to snap a picture to blackmail louis with it later. (the 70 year old senior is louis younger brother confirmed by jacob anderson himself lmao)

The one hundred thousand over set price for her painting reference???? So Louis doesn't even know, I wonder where armand is keeping the painting. I also wonder what his intentions are with reader. Like... what are his feelings, is his interest romantic, platonic, sexual or something completely different.

Now bestie reader is so gen z and i know for a fact the people in this generation will see bullshit from miles away. (we've been trained by social media) I love the idea of armand being the manipulative gremlin that he is and reader just seeing straight through it. She's a baddie we know damn well she will CLOCK HIM the second he tries to shift the playing field. And I know he'll like it too. Just look at him and Daniel. (rip non book readers, devils minion will give you whiplash)

SIDE NOTE: i love the moment in the show when armand is retelling his story of the trial in paris and Daniel questioning how tf a five hundred year old ancient did not have the ability to stop his own coven. Daniel's smug face and the deadpan "Or what?". Daniel GO GET HIS ASS.

Daniel and reader would get along so well.

side note nr 2: i apologize for the bomb i just dropped in your inbox.

omg what a fun ask <33

i love armand, but in real life i'd be so over the theatrics of it all 😭 like yes you're playing chess and we're all playing checkers we get it!! no one will think you're less mysterious if you just answer the question omg

thank you for mentioning the louis thing! i'm glad you liked how i set it up bc i wanted his worry/frustration to be apparent but i still wanted it to feel in character. ik he's not opposed to greater crash outs (like the paris thing for my girl claudia ✊) but i also think that even when he's upset he understands time and place to an extent. like claudia's very intentional killers deserve worse than a guy who has done something relatively minor to reader on accident. however, it's still important that he very much would do the same if not worse for bestie reader if something actually bad happened to her, so i'm glad you read it that way!!

the josh thing pls 😭 i almost didn't have bestie reader give the guy a name bc she knew how he'd react. also i think that while louis isn't chill with murder, knowing that it'd be so easy to hurt someone who he thinks deserves it isn't an easily dismissible thought. i don't think he's jumping to hurt/kill everyone that's wronged bestie reader, but i do think it's an intrusive thought. the wrist thing 😭 i can see louis reacting like that if he was right there, but i feel like louis would only plan out violence if someone seriously/intentionally hurt reader.

this is going to sound off topic, but bare with me for a second. i haven't delved into this yet, but friendships can be just as complicated as romantic relationships, and while i'm committed to louis and bestie reader always being completely non-toxic, that doesn't mean their dynamic is simple. a major thing that complicates their relationship is the way that they worry over the way the other perceives them.

bestie is worried that louis perceives her as fragile and therefore fleeting and unworthy of long term attention. she's scared of being seen as a hindrance and as a burden. louis is worried that one day everything will click for bestie reader and she'll realize that he's a monster. so he's doing all he can to not demonstrate violence in front of her.

anyways, all this to say that he's not going around attacking people partially bc of his values but also bc he doesn't want her to associate violence with him.

also, total side note but this dynamic is actually what leads to reader and armand bonding. louis loves her so much and the thought of losing her is so distressing that sometimes he censors himself a little too much or treats reader like she's extremely fragile. armand doesn't. yes, this is because it's easier to risk losing someone that isn't the your emotional support human, but also bc he genuinely thinks she's capable of handling it. he'll tell her every (non-incriminating) vampire story ever in full, gory detail and reader is fascinated.

the accent comment is killing me 😭 ik that nola accent was HEAVY over the phone. reader felt those words in her soul.

and yes he’s AT that airport and he’s happy about it too lol.

also yes louis loves her sm 😭. ofc he was worried about her all alone on drowsy medication. that's the light of his life! what's he supposed to do if something happens to her? go back to only talking to his companion and occasionally a journalist accidentally moonlighting as a divorce lawyer??

also omg daniel and reader interactions are a need!! daniel being described as louis's younger brother is so important to me here omg. i love daniel and louis's relationship sm, and i just know daniel is ready for someone else with common sense to be sitting in. daniel looks at bestie reader like that one meme that's like 'you're the only bitch in the house i ever respected'.

the picture concept is so cute 😭 might have to write that into a scene bc i can see daniel seeing louis and reader asleep and at first being like ? and then taking the picture to bring it up later.

YES THE PAINTING REFERENCE i'm so glad you noticed!! i was so excited for it lol. i mentioned this in another post briefly, but i think armand's lowkey disgusted with himself for purchasing the painting bc it's a physical representation of the fact that he finds reader interesting. even before louis, before he knew her, he found something about her interesting, and bc he thinks reader has dismissed him, he wants to pretend that he's never thought about her at all.

i don't want to spoil where the painting is (it's not a major spoiler lol) but armand still has it and it is somewhere secret.

omg armand's intentions with bestie reader 😭!! i'm going to give you a short answer and then a long answer bc his feelings for her evolve slowly.

short answer: he has a really intense hate-crush on her. she's so beloved and perfect and basically the sun personified. he wants to consume her soul, he wants her to not exist, he wants her live forever, he wants her, he wants her to be just as obsessed with him so that he can calm down. she's an affliction. she's a blessing. he's going through it.

long answer: at first, he resents her bc she's taking up all of louis's attention and love. then, he starts to wonder what is so perfect and wonderful about her that has louis absolutely enraptured by her existence. then, he tries to win her over for his pride, and then..well...it spirals.

there's also the underlying benefits of getting reader to care more about him than louis bc then louis can't leave him without losing reader (most delusional and unrealistic part of his thought process tbh).

as far as end goals, he's a little lost bc all of this was an accident <3. it gets to a point where louis and reader are so intertwined, armand thinks he deserves to be with both of them. he's entitled to a matching set.

bestie reader's gen-z-ness being the reason she can see through everything armand says 😭. omg. in my head, she likes louis and armand together so when she realizes something is up she's like oh no. bc she obviously has to tell louis but she's not happy about it. lowkey on a subconscious level she doesn't want to not have armand in her life so she's like :(.

still calls him out tho bc she's loyal and also bc his lies are so egregious it's hard not to. i can picture her being lowkey sneaky when armand mentions saving louis, like feigning confusion and asking something like "just so i'm clear, isn't lestat also technically a powerful vampire? and wasn't he also in the building?" just to start something but also as a way of sending louis subliminal messages to lock in and open his eyes.

also i can see daniel realizing bestie reader knows something is up and looking at louis and being like "come on...i know, armand knows, even the girl that was really happy to be talking two minutes ago and now can't stop staring at the floor knows..." 😭

omg and armand liking being called out. this is for sure when his obsession with reader peaks. also, this hasn't come up yet, but i picture bestie reader as being very perceptive and when she argues with armand over small things she accidentally clocks him with next level reads that she'll never know how accurate they are. i'm talking reads so accurate, louis is immediately stepping in between them bc he thinks it's so over for her just for armand to let it go. (might need to write a drabble featuring this)

armand's love language to reader is not killing or torturing her for calling him out. it gets to a point where louis is like ? girl i've seen you kill people for implying what she just directly said?? if louis ever notices that something is going on with armand in relation to bestie reader it's bc of a suspicious lack of attempts to physically hurt her fr.

(also total side note, but bc you mentioned devil's minion, i just needed to say i love devil's minion era sm.)

omg in response to your side note, i LOVED that moment so much. "or what?" had me gagged. on the GROUND fr.

daniel and reader would get along so well. two divas coming together to maximize their joint slay. they're sitting around the penthouse giggling over the vampire drama like they're the immortal ones 😭.

also,, never apologize for sending me a long ask!! i'm currently very hyperfixated on iwtv and this was so fun for me! if anything, i'm sorry for how long this response was 😭💗

[temporary-joyride]

Thoughts I am Thinking about after Bridon finale

In love with the frame of unimpressed LG and distressed CXS after the latter thinks his friend signed him up for sex work

Episode name fits. A perplexing one indeed.

"Why is it every time you look at me you have this murderous intent in your eyes?" is such a killer line I love it

The whiplash I got from Vein speaking perfectly normal Chinese only to bust out "what a pity!' in the most British accent ever

No way it means literally anything but I just found it interesting how Vein and LX say the same phrase in this ep. Different circumstances, same conclusion. What a pity.

"They say she can see right through someone in just 5 minutes" really great psychologist? Ranpo-level detective? Got some sort of other supernatural shenanigans running amuck? Only time will tell

THINKING SO HARD ABOUT "I know I can't stop you. But I can make you stay a little longer" SHAKING LINK CLICK BY ITS SHOULDERS- WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT? WHAT EXACTLY DOES HE MEAN BY THAT???

The FUCK do you know, LG? It's ok you can tell me

So much to talk about but I'm 100% caught up on this. "But I can make you stay a little longer" I'm gonna leave the Xia Fei and CXS mom stuff to you guys, I'll take care of this one and think about it every waking second for the next two weeks dw

Allowing CXS an extra few moments to connect with his mom? Mmmmm sure. It's not like CXS promised to drop it all and not get anyone else involved, not like LG would have any way of knowing mother and son were talking unless son broke that promise

Genuinely not even joking I thought LG was trying to delay Vein by a few moments to get him hit by a bus or something

What exactly happened is even crazier. What was that, man. What was that. My guy's doing voodoo over here when did he learn that.

"I don't want to change the past. I just want to lead us all to a new future.." not entirely sure those statements are all that different but go off

LG screwed as hell Xia Fei was so serious about finding his boss's killer.

Or... non-killer? How long do you think until he learns Vein is still alive?? Imagine Xia Fei killing CXS in their photo studio in Vein's stead. Picture it. I'm having a vision here.

Pretty fun season but maybe a little awkward? Perhaps just because of the fandom on tumblr but I feel like I was so freaking immersed s1&2 but Bridon felt so silly at times I couldn't take it seriously

hrnngh one timeline, he says. over and over. what does it all mean. how does fate play out. if we're looping only one timeline multiple times then why does it feel like it's slipping through my fingers. the clock is melting right here in my palm. ripples in the stream at my feet. im not sure where the present even is anymore-

time's up!

[fallenangelofsalt]

*slowly raises hand like im in class*

I personally think TDL is in the wrong about a LOT of things, but I would like to point out that him going to attack stickfigures after those rampages or the fight with TCO is also pure speculation. Sure, he's shown to be a lot more likely to do that than TCO, but then why is the city nearby not in ruins yet? And the thing about all sites being used by humans, the point is that none of the sites shown as Virabot targets are sites likely to have stickfigures in them. What is a stick gonna do in twitter?

And why the heck would he NOT think the CG is working for Alan? That cursor came from SOMEWHERE and the CG are the only other unexpected factor in the mix, of course he would think so, and Orange is very obviously a hollowhead, something that only Alan's creations have in common.

I don't think his hatred towards Alan was ever about Chosen, if your creator gave you an impossible task that you had no idea how badly could go for you, and then just kept playing solitaire while you are left at the mercy of someone who had every right to kill you then and there, wouldn't YOU be mad?

I don't think he was ever in the right with the things he did, exept maybe throwing that Virabot at Alan's PC considering he had no way of knowing there were stickfigures there at the time (you'd think having his old PC blown up would prevent him from trying that again, and it did, its just that TSC is an anomaly even in creation) but besides that, every bad thing he did had been done with TCO at his side, and I personally think TDL never had a chance to be good.

I have a personal theory that every hollowhead reflects Alan in some way. Now, this is pure theory, no need to read this part, but here's how I think:

Victim mirrors Alan's methodical torture. Now, Vic does it more as a means to an end rather than pure entertainment, but Alan is also shown to use stickfigures, TCO was enslaved as an ad block, TDL was created to kill TCO, and TSC was allowed to live and keep his friends as long as he helped with animating. Victim torturing TCO is more of a consequence than him being that way normally, but overall Vic is a watered down version of early Alan with a tragic backstory.

TCO has the same narrow worldview, he doesn't show any signs of remorse or hesitation until they're attacking stickfigures, and Alan doesn't even consider that maybe stickfigures have emotions until TSC talked.

TSC reflects the more positive aspects of Alan, like his love for animating and ability to create life.

TDL meanwhile, reflects a LOT of early Alan. Lack of empathy and disregard for stickfigures for example, as well as creating things with the purpose of destruction, and sadism.

The thing is, TDL was never meant to value stickfigures, and I don't think he ever had the opportunity to besides Chosen. Even if they both had a say in their targets it is very likely that Chosen had been leading at the beginning, considering in AVA3 TDL was only ever shown to follow others. The only part where he could argueably be the one leading is when the icons join the fight and that is very brief.

The only possible reason I can think of as to why that nearby city hasn't been attacked yet is that either Dark has no interest in doing so or Chosen has somehow gotten over his abysmal communication skills long enough to say maybe lets not.

And even if Chosen gets all the credit for their attack on newgrounds why would Dark interact with other sticks at that point? Alan had stick Jesus show up on his PC while he was doing laundry and the only reason why TSC didn't get deleted is a freak combination of uno reverse card powers, drawing skills and the ability to talk.

I'm rambling at this point but

TL;DR Dark is absolutely in the wrong but I see him as a what if Alan had actually tried to delete TSC, you know? The only real difference is that Alan saw a last minute reason to keep TSC around and TDL didn't. So I think he could mellow out given opportunity and time but now he's dead so :/

A message to all Dark Lord defenders

As someone who is vehemently against the idea that Dark is in any way sympathetic, I invite you to try and change my mind, I want to have a conversation with you all, because I genuinely think it's interesting that so many can look at a character who I think is a completely irredeemable asshole and see something more charitable.

So go on Dark defenders, go wild, explain all of your arguments and I will do my best to argue against them (or, maybe even agree with them if I think they make sense.

[sugarikiz]

thank you @eunandonly & @wonziz for bringing more light to this on your post here and here respectively, and talking about @/sighdeepseeker (report and block please!) for their hate on enhypen over here

evidence:

how can ANYONE say what taeil did doesn’t bring them disgust/hatred the way seeing jungwon does? so what if he was dating a girl (winter, or not) and so what if he smoked?

calling niki stupid too, amd bringing him into smth he wasn’t part of at all, is absolutely insane too. okay, you didn’t like jungwon smoking or dating — fine. you do you. but why bring someone totally unrelated to the issue into the mix?

im not saying what they’re saying about jungwon is right, im saying what they said abt niki was just not needed here.

01. THE GENERAL HATE

whatever jungwon or the other members do or who they date is none of engene’s business. im putting that out there as an engene myself, and that is absolutely true.

all of the hate towards jungwon is so unwarranted; he is a 20 year old, and very much an adult, so even if it’s true, why should you have so much hatred towards him for it?

there are multiple western artists who smoke, and is anyone going to run behind them screaming “you’re a cheat! kys!” for that? no.

now, before you come at me saying “western and kpop are very different”, i have to say that i mean this in the way that you need to treat k-idols as humans too, just as you treat western artist like that too.

it’s not jungwon’s fault for going live to apologise for all the allegations and drama when hybe most likely made him do it.

if someone put your job on the line, for one weverse live where you might or might not have to lie, what would you choose; live or lose the job you worked so hard for as a child?

02. THE DATING ALLEGATIONS WITH AESPA’S WINTER —

@.sighdeepseeker said something like this on a post;

“why do i get aespa winter smut recommendations? sorry, i can imagine what her and jungwon are doing every night and I definitely don’t want to read about or see it thank you very much.”

firstly, WHO put a gun to your head to think about it that way, and secondly, WHY would anyone ever even want to think about it that way?

just because they might be dating does not give fake engenes or engenes in general a free pass to let their imaginations run wild, if they ever even were dating in the first place.

what is the prejudice with dating in this industry, I’ll never know. do you really imagine that a 20 year old man, or a 22 year old woman have never had a partner or some type of romantic interest? because if so, you might need to go see someone who can get you out of that weird mindset.

these are our idols, not our damn puppets, and I would love for “fans” to someday realise that, better sooner than later.

i urge you to please spread the awareness about this, and go look into this more. thank you for reading, and have a good day/night.

tagging — @puma-riki @bywonyo @flufflights @amoressb @heeaara @heestoleurgirl @woniefication @miukidoll @haerinheartss @leaderwon @flwrstqr

[hencheri]

shdjdjd i didn’t have anything in mind but ur response sparked some ideas so i’ll share but i defer to ur knowledge cuz idrk what im talking about when it comes to nct😭 /lh

i was kinda thinking about what he’d think about exhibitionism,, cuz one of his recent instagram posts was sooo slutty /pos and i was briefly thinking about him being a camboy? maybe solo stuff because i’m not sure though how he’d feel about his partner (and by partner i don’t necessarily mean romantic just ,, reader insert if ykwim like.. con or noncon…) being shown off to others… i don’t know how possessive he’d be? also could see him like. camming but then having a double standard for girls hehhe

but then i was also thinking he’s into voyeurism. i agree he’s such a perv n i love the concept of like,, he just can’t help himself, he does all these dirty nasty things without thinking or like you’d said, with the encouragement of his friends,, they’re all just feeding into each other’s nasty fantasies /pos he feels very stalker coded? also!! virgin loser incel jisung who wants to lose his virginity sooo bad and he feels he’s owed it, so either in the nohyuck au, jeno and haechan let him use you for ‘practice’ or a similar idea but like not necessarily an extension of that scenario.

i just feel like maybe once he gets an idea in his head, he has to make it reality. he fantasizes a lot but, he also needs to act on it. in one way or another. i’m kinda imagining in college where he takes pics of u in class to masturbate to when he’s at home but it gets so bad, he just throws his hand down his pants in the lecture hall and jerks off to the back of your head. ok i’m going to stop for now😭

also needed to say ur response in total but especially the last couple lines made my brain short circuit in the best way possible /pos pos pos

me reading your ask: 😼

18+ mdni.

warnings: mentions of noncon & stalking.

camboy!jisung is interesting because he definitely wants that attention. he's so horny all the damn time it makes him wonder if he doesn't have a problem, but when he posts short clips of him jerking off, and he gets so many compliments... his ego boosts up so much. jisung's the kind to like the anonymity behind it too, he'd probably answer all his messages, sending nudes back and forth with random girls online.

with a partner, though, i don't think he'd mind! like, what if he gets with a girl as dirty as him? he'd be down to make videos, but just of certain body parts, like the penetration bit, without showing their faces. and kinda toxic!jisung... but he'd do it just for the praises online :/ but the double standard!!! yes, he'd think his girl doing it alone is wrong, like he'd definitely think she's a slut or a seeking attention whore :x like, he'd just find it too dirty for a girl. she's supposed to be good and pure!

jisung so stalker coded, 100%. when he has an obsession, he doesn't let it go easily. his mind doesn't take a break, he's constantly imagining stuff and i know he's too obsessed with knowing what the real thing is that he won't stop. no because nohyuck would give him pussy. as friends, they're here to help him, and they'd let him have you for sure! but tbh, chenle would help him too. takes a girl with him, doesn't say jisung will be there... not that jisung can't pull, but also yes lol.

he makes his fantasies reality without realizing it, i think!? if he manages to be alone with you (with help or not), he'd dive in for a kiss when he thinks the moment is right. but you don't feel the same, so you pull away, but he insists and of course with his ridiculous height, he cages you easily.

but um, in the lecture hall... that's kinda hot. it's so freaky and disgusting, but he would. damn it.

[honeyhotteoks]

i never thought i'd be alive to see my man yunho show this much skin...

how are we doing miss chai? was your day memorable? your coffee warm enough? was this yunho treat enough to pull you through the week? i need thoughts on his UNBELIVABLE acting out bc im clearly not coping well

✨anon

ohhhhh ✨ anon you know me so well.

so how am i doing….. i’m actually amazing - my skin is clear, my bed was warm, my coffee is perfectly delicious. i’m in eastern time usa for those who don’t already know, so i was settling down on my couch with my coffee and my ipad, ready to scroll the news and twitter and then i got the notification…. and i could see in the thumbnail yunho was shirtless, and the rest, as they say, was a totalfuckingblackout i freaked out and threw my phone.

this yunho was definitely enough to pull me through the week though, i’m absolutely going to watch this every time work tests my patience because he’s seriously setting my monday up and my week up for something good.

but i actually do have so many thoughts about this as your resident yunho analyzer…. so if anyone’s interested:

During this Europe tour, three interesting things happened where it came to Yunho showing more skin. First, he did not go to the pool but did joke around with atiny on live who said he should have gone / were joking around about pool pics. Second, he showed up on that live in a tank top and was a little embarrassed about showing too much skin, but then when atiny assured him they’ve seen the same from other members, he said he’d remember that and to be more comfortable with atiny. Third…. his costumes for Europe tour have increasingly started to show more chest which is something he’s always been a little shy about, but especially since the Guerrilla wardrobe malfunction a while back. There’s the lace up white shirt of course, but his Silver Light white shirt is more unbuttoned than I’ve ever seen, and he’s no longer wearing a black turtleneck underneath the purple crushed velvet jacket that had the malfunction.

Next, I’ll mention in the recent voice live he was talking about skincare and his shower routine / hair routine because he had a break out, and was just kind of rambling about it and answering questions. At some point in this live he was like…. ah is this too much / not interesting? and apologized, but atiny encouraged him to keep sharing, they like that kind of thing etc. and were curious about what products he uses and his routine.

NOW take all of that information, and remember that Yunho historically does not show a lot of skin but does occasionally like to be a little extra (whether it’s the booty work tiktok, some of his cheekier boyfriend content etc., sometimes he just gets in the mood to show off)

So whenever he’s feeling like this he usually posts something boyfriendy or hiphop dance content, but I genuinely think he’s been live a ton lately and communicating with atiny a lot, and this was kind of swirling around - the idea that he has quite a modest persona combined with atiny pushing him to be himself more / be more comfortable.

I genuinely, genuinely believe he got a little jealous that everyone was talking about other members. We know he’s probably the most jealous one in ateez, the most possessive over his fans, and while yes…. that’s fanservice and he’s very good at it, I always see a nugget of truth in it when you watch his expressions on lives and stuff.

HOWEVER - Yunho is also not the type to post an outward thirst trap where like…. skin is showing. I think it makes him uncomfortable full stop, which is why people have been very respectful of him not showing too much skin / not circulating the wardrobe malfunction video etc. I think he likes the teasing elements (like when he checked if he had abs after Mingi’s photo shoot) but a lot of that reads slightly impulsive because he’s a little jealous and a little attention starved when his fans eyes start to wander.

So this video is the perfect middle. It’s boyfriend content, it’s soft content, it’s arguably not sexual in nature AT ALL and yet it’s the first time we’ve really seen his chest to this degree. He’s giving fans something they were asking for while sating his own desire for some amount of attention, and doing it in a way that I can only presume he’s way more comfortable with versus like…. shirtless bathroom pics / gym pics / dancing in something revealing etc.

He’s somehow struck the modest and showing off line so perfectly

I guess this is all to say….. Yunho is so fucking good at his job. He’s extremely attentive to what fans are saying and asking for, and he always leans into those things. Part of that is fan service and engagement, that would be natural for anyone making money off their persona or social media, but I also think some of this is just Yunho. It’s clear he enjoys connections with fans, showing off to them and being there for them, and some of his true personality is bound to bleed into that content.

I’ve also heard from him and other members that he’s one of the more “persona-less” members of Ateez. He’s not that different off camera, and I think that says something about these moments of content.

I think we can safely assume Yunho is that guy… he’s kinda dorky, kinda goofy, super fucking sweet, thoughtful, and LISTENS, and he also understands that appeal. He knows the boyfriend content is something he’s personally okay with and his fans love, because he understands it. He understands that some level of sexiness and skin is both appealing and effective, and he uses it sparingly and at the right times, often without being overtly sexual and more just being himself, which is the ultimate form of boyfriend content after all.

Anyways…. that’s my brain rot on yunho for the day. I’m here to say, this man knows what his fans want and knows how to deliver within boundaries HE is comfortable with and I think that’s really commendable. I’m also just further and further convinced that he’s a good guy who’s only real “fault” is an aries jealous streak and good lord we aren’t complaining out here about that when he shows up doing shit like this.

[vxlentinescookies]

could I pls request a PLATONIC fatherly red velvet x teen reader comfort fic?

like reader is struggling a lot mentally, is very lonely, and going thru a lot

And they always hide it because they feel guilty and like a burden and they don’t want to bother anyone

But one day velvet catches them in this state and he just provides lots of comfort? I think anyone needs hugs and fatherly comfort from Velvet rn these days…

→ ❛Daydreamer❜

→ Pairing ; Red Velvet Cookie & Teen!Reader → Quote ; ❛❛Im not leaving anywhere, pup, come here❜❜ → Genre ; Drama → A/N ; Sorry for the delay, here it is! (cw mentions of abusive households and bullying)

Dreams are meant to be sweet, simple and cozy, even if sometimes they’re extravagant and coat your world in curious questions and what not. However, lately, these “dreams” had seemed to have taken a darker tone, a darker connotation, and perhaps there is nothing more we could chalk it up other than…

“Im not… I dont feel good. Havent felt good in a long while.”

You looked down at your hands, looking at the little lines that ran through them, before looking up, and then, you’d think for a moment, about what led you to the current moment.

You were a teen much like any other, with your likes, your dislikes, things you loved and things you hated. You explored the world with a certain shine in your eyes that, lately, had been dying down, but why? Life at home just, wasnt easy, no, not at all. You lived hardship after hardship, with a neglectful parent and another who barely stayed home, you were barely afloat with the cold hard walls you had to see every single day. Outside of your home, things werent all that nice either, having gone through bullying for your interests, for the way you dressed, the way you were.

Life wasnt good, it hasnt been good, and probably wont be good for a long while, if truth was to be told, but you tried to cope, tried to move forward, tried to see the bright side, even if locked in your tiny room, writing and drawing of a bright future where you could live out of the things you loved the most, where you could experience all that made you the happiest. If you could only… speak up about them.

Perhaps, thats where your uncle came into view. Red Velvet, one of the siblings from your motherly side that stayed firm in being in your life. You were somewhat glad about it, that he had always and persistently stayed by your side no matter what, even if in his gaze, your life was seemingly perfect. Your parents were good actors, you see, we all are when we need to put on a facade.

So when Red Velvet came to visit that afternoon, between laughs and chit chat, you’d sneak over to your room, with nothing else in mind but to hide from the saccharine smiles and hypocritical gazes of love and affection. They didnt care about you, no, they didnt… But for him they acted, didnt they?

Locking yourself in your room, you’d sit down by your desk and start drawing again, little sketches, little drabbles, you enjoyed every single one of them with a soft hum. You drew happy homes, you drew sad homes, you drew the in between, and you drew the ideal family for you, even if it only had one parent in it. Thats when the door was knocked on, catching you off guard as you’d tilt your head before responding.

“Im busy…” Harsh, cold, it took the person behind the door by surprise, and as they spoke, you realized.

“(y/n), its me… Red Velvet, your uncle…” You had guessed wrong.

You call out to him, quietly, before walking to the door and opening it to reveal your uncle, a small smile on his face as he looked down at you.

“Hey, there” He’d say softly, before kneeling in front of you “What are you doing here? Party’s down there…”

“I dont want to be with them…” You answered, truthfully, looking down with certain disdain as you fiddled with your hands. “I prefer being in my room”

“...” He’d just stay silent, not saying much, before taking a look inside your dark room, only illuminated by the light in your desk. “Can I come in?”

Red Velvet would take a seat at your bed, as you took the side by him, rocking your legs up forward and backwards, clashing with the bed plush as Red Velvet looked around, before speaking.

“Why dont you want to be with them? Your parents, I mean…” He’d ask, looking at you as you fiddled with your hands once again.

“They’re lying, they act as if they care about me but I rarely see them at home… And when they do they’re mean…” You’d answer, truthfully, there wasnt a wish to lie about that reality after all, nor was there any wish to speak about it. “I dont want to talk about it…”

“...” He’d pursue his lips, then, he knew something was wrong, but getting it out of someone… “(y/n), whats wrong?”

So he’d ask it out plainly, looking at you with suspicious eyes, but not incriminatory, he simply looked at you for something, anything, that would give him leeway into helping you let out these feelings. But your mind had been locked into not giving in to others, into not revealing the full truth in search of not being a burden, but to your uncle you wouldnt be a burden now, would you? You didnt know, and you didnt want to find out in any way, shape, or form.

“Nothing’s wrong” You’d say, crossing your arms. “Im fine, Uncle”

“If you were fine you wouldnt be holed up in this dark room…” He’d say, sighing “Im not going to force you to speak, ok? But when you need me, you know where to find me”

He’d stand up, then, getting ready to leave when you’d extend your hand to grip on the hem of his sleeve, and then…

“Im not… I dont feel good. Havent felt good in a long while.” You said as he stopped and turned to look at you, making his eyes follow yours.

You looked down at your hands, the little hands that ran through them. The little lines natural to your body, you hummed, before clenching your hands and running to hold onto your uncle, tears soon beginning to run through your face.

“Dont leave, please…”

“Im not leaving anywhere, pup, come here”

Life was hard, that much was true, and as you day dreamed day in and day out about a new future, this once you chose to stand on earth, and explain the truth about your life. You told your uncle about everything that had happened, everything that had gone through your mind, everything that happened both in and out of school, in and out of home, you came undone and loose, letting your tears flow freely, as Red Velvet your uncle, heard you loud and clear, humming and nodding along as you spoke. 

“You’ve gone through a lot, that is for sure…” He’d start then, once you had finished speaking, and your face turned to look at him while he rubbed your shoulder gently. “But that dosent mean you had to live it alone…”

“I just didnt want to be a burden…”

“Sweetheart, you’re not a burden, not to me nor anyone for that matter”

“But Mom-”

“Your mom knows nothing” His voice would become slightly agitated, turning to see the door before sighing “Neither of us came from a healthy household, but, Im not saying this as a way to justify her actions, simply to try and see it from her point of view—She dosent know anything else…”

“That dosent make it right…” You’d counterattack, and Red Velvet would nod along.

“Of course, just because you understand someone dosent mean it makes it right” He’d explain, and you’d nod softly “What Im trying to say is, neither of us knows much other than hurt. But what we do about that, is what matters…”

You stayed in silence for a moment, before turning to see Red Velvet again, who seemed to be in thought before turning to see you in return, mismatched eyes meeting with teary ones, you clung to him as you spoke your next words.

“I dont want to live here anymore…”

“I know pup, I know” He’d say and sighed, before nodding “I’ll talk with your mom, try to make things right… If not… Leave it all to me, alright?”

He’d clean your eyes and brush hair out of your face, before finally speaking softly.

“If you need me, you know you can always come and find me, I’ll always be here for you no matter what, I promise you that much”

Life… it didnt become any easier, but at least… At least you had someone to lean to from now on, and that much was enough for you to have hope of one day, leaving and fulfilling your dreams. Because maybe someday… Someday you’ll be standing in the hall making one specific person proud, and that will be enough.